Mixing butterflies and skating can be a dangerous thing. Or at least it was for me, as it lead me to a broken wrist. Today, I tell the story of coping with my recent wrist fracture.

Event

Have you heard of the butterfly effect, where a butterfly flapping its wings causes a typhoon on the other side of the world? This term originates from chaos theory and describes a phenomenon where one seemingly small event can have non-linear impacts on a complex system.

Apparently, in mid-December, the butterflies must have been really busy on the other side of the planet. So busy that in Toronto, the strong winds generated by the fluttering of their wings knocked me off my skates. I fell. Hard.

How did it happen? While I was coming around a bend, I lost balance, tripped and landed on my outstretched left hand. Even with the background music and the fellow skaters’ chatter around me, I heard it. The dreaded crack. Then, the overwhelming, radiating pain and swelling that came right after only confirmed what I had intuitively already known: I had broken my wrist.

ER

Anyone who has ever broken a bone or assisted someone with one knows the drill: the trip to the ER, the X-ray, the diagnosis, setting the bones, temporary cast. Next day at the crack of dawn, a trip to the fracture clinic to get a permanent cast to properly immobilize the injured limb.

That evening, I went through the first part at the speed of light. I even cracked some jokes with the nurses. Full of optimism, I arrived the following morning at the fracture clinic to get my colourful fiberglass cast. Or so I thought. Instead, I left empty-handed with a referral to see a specialist.

Learning Corner

My broken wrist is known by the fancy name of a distal radius fracture. (There are two bones in our forearm: radius and ulna. Radius is the bigger one and is located on the thumb side). The fracture of the radius bone at the wrist joint is the most common orthopedic injury. It accounts for 17.5% of all fractures in adults and usually occurs one inch from the end of the bone towards the hand.

Even though the distal radius fracture is relatively common, its treatment depends on many factors, such as the type of break, the age of the patient, etc. Definitely it is not as simple as setting the bones in one swift pull and then immobilizing the arm with a cast, so the body can do the healing. When the bones are shattered or badly displaced, surgical intervention is required.

Watch this informative video of Dr. Joshua C. Richards explaining in more detail what to expect after distal radius fracture.

Decision Time

You guessed it right. I pulled the shortest straw in the form of a displaced bone. At the ER, the doctors were unable to set my radius in its proper position, hence the referral to the specialist.

Predictably, the orthopedic surgeon determined that my best option to fix my broken wrist would be surgery. Without it, my wrist would heal incorrectly and cause a lot of problems in the years to come. What kind of problems? Most likely pain and permanent, significant loss of range of motion in my left hand.

As an avid Pilates enthusiast, daily typist (who isn’t?), and occasional knitter, I wasn’t ready to give up the activities I love. Therefore, I consented to the surgery, scheduled in three days time. It was a day surgery, which meant that I would be going home after the procedure.

Surgery

On the day of my surgery, I showed up at the hospital at 11am, fasting since midnight. I changed into the hospital gown and went through the pre-op activities, which mostly consisted of waiting.

The actual surgery started at 2pm and lasted about two hours.

While I was blessedly unconscious, the doctors cut my wrist open, inserted a titanium plate and screwed it into my radius to keep the bone in its proper position. I imagined it looked something like this. Warning! Some might find the image disturbing!

As soon as all the drilling and hammering was done, they stitched me up, put a bulky cast on my left forearm and moved me to post-op for recovery.

I don’t remember much from the post-op room, other than the beeping sound followed by a nurse’s stern voice reminding me to breathe. How could I have forgotten how to breathe in those short two hours when I was under, I wondered. Later, I learned that this is quite a typical reaction to the full anaesthesia for those living with low blood pressure, like myself.

A couple of hours later, still groggy, I was sent home to heal.

I left the hospital with an early Christmas gift: brand new hardware buried in my arm. That, and an extra ECG patch on my side they forgot to remove after the surgery. Two for the price of one? Thank you generous Canadian universal healthcare.

Recovery

You might expect that I spent the next few weeks in a painkiller-induced state of bliss. Not quite. Although I had enough prescription medication to ease all my post-op pain and perhaps even the existential pain for all of my immediate neighbours, reaching the state of bliss wasn’t meant to be.

I’ve learned that I’m one of the overly sensitive people who struggle more with the painkillers’ side effects than with the actual pain. Therefore, even though it wasn’t my plan, I went through the recovery military style by biting down on a stick. I mean, fully conscious.

And now looking back, it wasn’t such a bad thing. Without the painkillers’ fog, I could listen to the signals my body was sending and respond to them accordingly. And later, when the pain started to subside, I had the mental clarity to begin to ponder why I was going through this. Stay tuned, I will cover that in my next blog posts.

Growing Pains

While I don’t necessarily think that we manifest these accidents on purpose, I do believe that whatever shows up in our life always carries a lesson and potential for growth. Even in the most painful event – and let me tell you, the nerve pain can bring the strongest of us to our knees – lies an opportunity for introspection.

Obviously, I would have preferred to have my left wrist in its preaccident form. I do miss my Pilates and yoga a lot! But by breaking my wrist on that fateful Sunday, I feel I was given the opportunity to learn more about myself and my beliefs.

For example, I was pushed to face some of my deepest fears and anxieties, and accept their existence. Furthermore, I was given the opportunity to test the strengths of my relationships – I will write more about this soon.

At the same time, I had to come to terms with the fact that I’m not invincible. Accepting the physical limitations this kind of injury imposes had been pretty sobering for an independent, active person like myself. Perhaps that’s why regaining even the most basic range of motion in my left hand has been a source of accomplishment. I’m on the mend!

While I wish the butterfly-triggered wind hadn’t knocked me off my skates on that day, I have to deal with the reality. And it looks that thanks to that fall, I have reached a new, titanium phase of my life.

… You shoot me down, but I won’t fall
I am titanium
You shoot me down, but I won’t fall
I am titanium

I am titanium
I am titanium

‘Titanium’ by David Guetta.

Coming soon:

“Spiritual Interpretation of Breaking my Wrist”

“Things I Learned Recovering from the Wrist Surgery”