Good news, everyone!
(Note: I can’t say that without hearing the voice of Professor Farnsworth from Futurama in my head.)
I can draw.
This discovery was not without initial setbacks.
Shortly after my last post I tried drawing, and about two minutes in I lost most of my right-hand strength and couldn’t continue. It seemed very uncharacteristic of the injury, so I figured it was the muscle relaxant finding tension in some muscle groups and shutting it down. I took a nap, slept the rest of that crap off, and woke up crankier than a Model T on a cold morning.
In that mood — tense, irritated, and in significant pain — I sat down to try again. It worked just fine — no nervous wiggles, no dropping the pen, and the lines went pretty much just where I planned for them to. Whether or not that’s where the lines BELONG is an artistic issue rather than a medical one.
Verdict: I’ll be medicating with ibuprofen and caffeine, drawing until it hurts, and then using the muscle relaxants when I’m ready to take a break for a few hours.
Sandra scheduled me for 11:30am tomorrow with the Physical Therapist, which is four days sooner than I’m supposed to go, but I’m all for taking this “waiting” thing and screwing it to the wall sideways. The physical therapist will get an accurate assessment of the state of my injury tomorrow morning, and will determine how soon I’m ready for whatever phase of therapy is supposed to come next. I am NOT going to sit around convalescing for four more days on the instructions of the doctor who offered to “write me a note” so my boss would give me some time off of work.
Pain? I don’t have time for pain.