Started From The Bottom Now We Here

We made it! The longest and most brutal twelve weeks of my life have reached a semi-climactic end. My tendon has, medically speaking, returned to full strength and so I'm free to push open doors to my heart's content. Whether or not I feel mentally ready for that is an entirely different story, but I can't deny how good it feels to know that picking up a cup of coffee no longer carries a health risk.

The real fact of the matter is that this journey doesn't end here. Not even close. There's still a lot of healing left for my body to do (shout out to my antibodies for being total lazy bones and taking their sweet time) which means my hand still feels really super weird (that's a medical term) and will do for at least another few months. Hooray me.

Despite all the physio and the endless hours of forcing myself to get back to normality, I still haven't regained the natural instinct that comes with having two fully-functioning hands. Nothing feels natural anymore. Even now, am I using my index finger to type this? Nope. Am I able to use it to type things? Sure, it's just not all that enjoyable and so my brain has decided that it's easier to just avoid using it wherever possible.

Am I being dramatic? Possibly. But I've said it before, and I'll say it again, "you never know what you have until you no longer have it". Your hands are a huge part of who you are. Will your eyebrows still be on fleek if you only have one hand to draw them on with? Will your poached eggs be completely smooth if you only have one hand to crack the shell with? These are the important questions at times like this. And only time will tell you the answer.

Not only has this experience physically changed me, it's also had a huge impact mentally. Go figure. I actually lost some of the movement in my index finger for a good seven or so weeks because of the amount of trauma within the area, and it was mentally agonising trying to get it back.

Regardless of what happens next, I now know what it is to be brave, what it is to be strong, and what it is to say a giant "fuck you" to a Starbucks employee who cracks a hugely misplaced joke.

Stay away from knives, or better yet, keep out of the kitchen entirely.
~ Eleanor xo

| And if none of the above makes sense, you can read part one here and part two here |