19. Twiddling My Thumb

It's become a habit; playing with my lifeless thumb. My metacarpals twitch my digits but there's no movement from the phalanges. I've been introduced to ways to open jars and a one-touch kettle, which are life-changing. We've been practising picking things up, drinking etc, and my fingers clench, but I can't really grip yet. I can make my fingers like a Lego hand, but it won't grasp. It's an occupational therapist's job to oversee hands, as well as occupying them, and your whole self too.

The occupational therapist assistant has just resumed doing washing and dressing with me. Whilst that is done every week in the hospital, it's not the norm in the centre I'm in, but it's been started for me now. This is where they facilitate me doing as much of my morning routine as I can, as currently a care assistant needs to help me. When I first came to the centre my shower was one of those heads attached to the wall on a push-button timer, like a locker room shower. I was sat on a commode and had to be turned around to wash my back. Now it's been replaced by a normal hand-held shower head, and a grab-rail has been added so I can practice standing in the shower. It's still on a 30 second push button timer though. I can't have everything.

The occupational therapy assistant is called Becca. Weirdly, we realised we were in the same AS Art class back in sixth form, but hadn't got to know each other. I vaguely remember encouraging her about her art work 5 years ago; now I fully appreciate the irony when we do craft activities again, in wildly different circumstances. In our sessions, I am able to stand and wash myself, dry myself and dress myself (though the boxing boots defeat me). I am still reliant on the commode for toileting and showering, which I can hop onto from my wheelchair no problem, and need to be pushed from my bedroom into the wet room, which is fun.

I have also been doing more cooking assessments, including going in the van to Tesco and buying the ingredients for a butter nut squash curry which I then went back and made. Having a thumb out of action means I still need quite a lot of help with cutting, opening cans etc. as the kitchen is not fully kitted out for one-handed living. Becca also did a microwave assessment with me, to show I can use a microwave safely. I am the only person in the centre who has a room with a microwave, fridge, sink and kettle, so I get to keep my own food, ha ha.

Whilst I twiddle my thumb literally, I no longer do this metaphorically. The amount of things I do with therapists has stepped up, plus there are independent exercises I can do, including using the seated cross-trainer. I await the day when my thumb can twiddle itself.

One of the strangest things happened to me last week. I rolled out of bed. I was having a dream that I was in a swimming class, and my imaginary swim partner and I were keen to prove ourselves. I was in the water, and my partner was standing on the side, encouraging me. We were told to do a roll in the water, so at my partner's urgings, I heaved myself over. The next thing I knew, I felt a horrible drop, and then I was lying ony my back on the floor, completely unharmed. Thanks, fictitous swim partner. After berating myself soundly, I pressed the call-buzzer, which I could easily reach on the table next to me when I sat up. I felt like such a fool.

I got safely back on the bed aided by the simple technique of a person holding me under each arm. Of course, I found the whole thing hilarious, unlike the therapy team. I gather that counts as a 'fall', which is a lot of paperwork. To my embarrassement, the occupational therapist bought me a crash mat the next day. I haven't used it so far.

My food.