Life Now

Sorry I haven’t posted for a while, but I will start to post more regularly.

So far I have had both of my pots removed. My left cast was replaced with a half one, which I had to wear for 3 weeks. Since then I have had no casts on my right arm (yay).  Both my cats, Flobean and Kazabella, particularly liked that cast and even used it as a scratching post.

Now I have a removable cast for my left arm. Its like a normal cast but it is softer and has a cut down the middle where I can pull my arm out. To keep it on there is Velcro wrapped around it. Unfortunately, when I wear it my clothes get all clicked off the scratchy Velcro. Also, my arms are like hairy apes arms but apparently this is the norm.

I still haven’t had any physiotherapy for my arms yet, but I am due to go back to the hospital next week. 

What I am most happy about is that my arms are finally free because now I don’t have to go into the bath wearing 2 huge bags on my arms (I felt a bit like the BigHero6 character).

However, I don’t have anything to protect my arms and my pins stick out slightly so I am always scared of getting them bumped or knocked. There has already been an incident in school when I was stood watching in P.E. They were playing bench ball, the second most violent ball game (first comes netball) and everyone was caught up in the heat of the game and then the ball started rolling in my direction. Before I knew it I was being squashed and flattened against the wall by a couple of boisterous boys. I immediately felt a rush of pain to my right elbow. Once the ball had been retrieved from under my feet I was left gasping for air. My elbow was in agony and it was already bruising. It didn’t help that they had been a pair of fat lads.

But just how thoughtless and careless it was of them to ram into me! When the lesson was over I stormed off to the school office and called my mum to pick me up. My arm felt like it was burning and I was sure my pins had been knocked.

Luckily, I found out later that they hadn’t, but I was still in pain.

I really don’t know why, but I seem to be a target for getting hurt. I’m slowly getting better, just with a lot of bruising along the way.

Me, wearing my neon yellow cast, sitting next to my cat, Flobean.

Car Crash Confusion

On Thursday I awoke to snow covered paths and sheets of freezing cold ice covering the roads. I had to travel to school in the car, as I was unable to manage on the bus just yet. While turning a bend the car skidded on the ice and we lost control of the car. We ended up crashing into and running over 2 poles and we were left hanging over a ditch with a steep drop off into the beck.

Further up the road was another car on its side. There was no one in it but there was a police car beside it.

I texted my friends that we had crashed and weren’t coming into school.

Luckily our neighbour was driving past and offered to take my sister and I home, while my mum called to get the car towed. When the tow truck came it turned out it was the wrong type and another had to be sent out.

When all at home we received a worried call from one of my teachers. Apparently, my classmates had told her that we were in a car crash and that we were in the car on its side. People must have assumed that that was the car we were in since they had seen it as they went past it on the bus to school.

I decided to wait till the next Monday until I went back to school.

At school people talked about how unlucky my family and I had been and I agree. We have been quite unlucky but that won’t get me down.

Back At Last

At home I had to have everything done for me. I couldn’t do anything. I spent my days off school being cared for by my mum. She fed me, dressed me and she even had to take me to the bathroom. It was a bit like having a new born baby in the house and I was the baby!

The first night back I woke up 7 times and I had to call my mum to move my arms if they ached or to give me paracetamol. On the following nights I woke up less and less until I didn’t wake up through the night at all. This might sound odd but often I would dream of falling (weird right? I don’t feel that traumatised though). 

I didn’t go to school for over 2 weeks so I spent long days sat in front of the TV, watching whatever was on at the time. I ended up watching a lot of The Jeremy Kyle Show even though I don’t particularly like it. I think if my English teacher found out I was watching it, then he would be furious (he absolutely hates it).

For school work my sister brought home work and my mum would write for me. After those 2 weeks off I went in for a meeting at school to see if I could come back and what would be arranged. By now I was desperate to get out of the house and get back in school. I was due to go in the next Thursday but I never made it.

Home Time

After 2 days in the hospital I was itching to leave (literally). My mum gathered our stuff and then the nurses came to collect us. I could only just stand up, so I was taken down in a wheel chair. I couldn’t leave yet though because I needed to go to the plaster room to get pots on to protect my arms. In the plaster room my bandages were cut off and clean dressings were put on my arms where I had the operation. Getting brightly coloured casts was the only upside to breaking my arms. I wanted a purple and a pink cast but I had to have white in case any of my blood came through (luckily it didn’t). I had to get colours next time.

A cast is made by rolls of plaster being soaked in warm water and wrapped around a bandage sleeve (so the plaster doesn’t go on your skin, which would be impossible to get off). When the cast dries, it hardens. I found the warmth from the water soothing but I also felt nauseous from having my arms pulled around.

Next to me, in the plaster room, was a elderly lady getting a purple cast on her leg. She had broken her leg pole dancing!

Getting into the car at last, I knew the worst was over and that I had a long recovery ahead of me…and many hours of Jeremy Kyle.

To The Operating Theatre: Part 3

I didn’t go home that day but my sister and gran visited. My sister even made me a get-well card. My mum also showed me all the lovely messages on Facebook that my friends had left me. Throughout the visit I kept closing my eyes and insisting that I was only resting them. Unfortunately, I ended up falling asleep. I slept through dinner and tea too, so I had to just have slices of toast and cups of tea again and more packets of custard creams. That was the only thing I ate that day.

On the night the nurses still came in to top me up with painkillers and antibiotics. This time through a needle in my foot as my hand was covered up. My arms ached most of the night and had to be moved around a lot. I don’t think I got any sleep that night because I had slept through most of the day. I don’t think my mum got any sleep either, as I kept waking her to move my arms or scratch my face, which was still itching like mad! By morning time we both had tired baggy eyes.

We were looking forward to going home.

To The Operating Theatre: Part 2

I felt less worried with my mum beside me when I was given the anaesthetic. I was given it though the needle in my right hand and an air mask covered my face (I felt like a snorkeler in the ocean). I tried to relax and drift off as the tips of my fingers and toes began to tingle. This feeling spread over me like a tidal wave and within a few seconds I was carried into a deep sleep. Whilst growing drowsy my mum stroked my forehead just like she did when I was a young infant.

7 long hours later I awoke. Initially I found it difficult to open my eyes, as I still felt really tired.  The first thing I saw was my dad sitting in the hospital armchair, near the window, reading a car magazine. To my right was my mum staring at her phone. I didn’t feel any different, except my face was extremely itchy (this was due to the anaesthetic). I was unable to bring my hand up to scratch my face so I violently shook my head from side to side to rub it on my pillow. Noticing I was awake my mum and dad rushed over to the end of my bed and asked how I was feeling. All I could say was, “Face. Itchy.” They must of thought I was mad yet they still scratched my face for me (I was probably like this for a couple of days).

This was when it dawned on me that I would not be able to do any simple tasks for myself, like scratching an itch, for a while.