Tuesday, September 6, 2011

hands


In less than 24 hours, I'll be in surgery.
Carpal Tunnel Surgery.
On both hands.

I've been more excited than nervous since the date was set.
But this morning, I woke up with that empty pit feeling in my stomach.


But I know everything will go well.

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Through a frustrating and way-too-prolonged course of events, I ended up scheduling the surgery with my neighbor and back-up Ward Organist as my surgeon.

My surgeon is very good at what he does, highly recommended by everyone I've talked to, and, most importantly, fully invested in my recovery.

He sent me a text message this morning that said:
Looking forward to tomorrow. Best wishes to both of us.

My symptoms became pretty unbearable this spring - in both hands. I've been suffering with symptoms in my right hand for several years, but it was always manageable. And it's easy to still do things when you have one perfectly working hand. But when they both practically shut down.... It's bad news.


So this spring, when I felt like cutting off my hands every day, I finally went to a doctor. He referred me to a highly sought after hand surgeon that just so happened to be covered by my insurance. I was nervous and excited about the prospect of surgery, and called to make an appointment.

But his first opening was in the middle of August.
And it was May.

I resigned myself to the fact that I would have to wait to get in to see him, telling myself, that if the waiting list was so long, he must be the best. Right? The summer basically came and went, and the day of my appointment had finally arrived. I geared myself up for good news and bad news, preparing my heart for whatever the outcome would be. I was scared he'd say surgery was necessary. I was scared he'd say that I'd just have to wear braces on my hands for the rest of my life and live with the pain.

I arrived at my appointment 20 minutes early, thinking that I'd need time to park, fill out insurance info, and just to sit in the waiting room and calm myself down. But when I walked up to the reception desk, everything changed.

I said I was there for a 1:00pm appointment. They told me to have a seat and that they'd be with me soon. I waited about 15 minutes, not thinking anything was wrong, when the receptionist came back to the desk and informed me that I did not have an appointment with the doctor. I said that I was sure I did, and asked her to check again. She did a little digging and found out that the woman who I made the appointment with put my appointment in with a foot specialist. Awesome. Because I'm sure a foot specialist is interested in carpal tunnel. In my HANDS.

My eyes welled with tears, and I tried to hold them back and asked the woman what I should do. She kindly said that she would help me reschedule. I brushed the tears aside and said ok, and waited for her to look up the next available opening:

November 30.

And that's when I started crying. A lot. Almost in pitiful sobs. Almost. She apologized for the long wait and for the inconvenience, and said that she wished there was something else she could do for me... "but would you like the November 30 appointment?"

I declined, thanked her for trying and gathered
my things while hurriedly trying to get out the door.

I almost made it to my car before the sobs returned... or... er... started.

I sat in my car for 20 minutes, heartbroken and in pain. I couldn't believe that I had waited over 3 months for this appointment only to have it messed up. I was angry. Sad. Hurt. Why did I have to wait so long? It was so unfair.

I came home and started my search for a doctor all over again, when a little voice in my head told me to send a message to my neighbor. When I had talked to him earlier in the year about my hands, he mentioned that he did Carpal Tunnel Surgery, but that his practice didn't accept my insurance. So I sort of wrote off the idea. But my little head voice (read: Holy Ghost) said it again:

Send the message.

So I did. I mentioned that my appointment fell through with this other surgeon, and that I knew he didn't accept my insurance, but wondered if he had any recommendations for what I should do or who I should see.

He kindly informed me that he had recently signed an exclusive deal with my insurance company, and would be happy to fit me in at my earliest convenience.

I made an appointment for a few days later and, this time, was not scared at all before the consult.

He immediately put me at ease when I walked into his office - in fact, he came out to the foyer to say hello while still meeting with another patient! He took almost an hour that morning answering all of my questions, presenting all of the different methods of action to take, all of the ins and outs of surgery, and more importantly, recovery. He truly made me feel at peace with the decision.


And it helps that he has a vested interest in my recovery - the sooner I heal, the fewer weeks he has to play the organ in our ward.

I trust my hands in his.

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The other day I was talking to a woman that works in my building and she asked me how I thought I developed Carpal Tunnel. I told her about all of the things I do with my hands (read: everything I love to do I do with my hands.) and she said "... well, God giveth and God taketh away."

But she is wrong.

God gave me my hands. He gave me the talents to use them. And he has given me the opportunity to learn a few things about myself lately.

I can do hard things.
I can work through the pain.
And, that through Him, I can be healed.


I've been so blessed in my life to have many talents and abilities. My hands are God's tools. And I hope that I have successfully used them for good, and that I can continue to use them for better. God isn't or hasn't taken anything away. He has only given.

He's given me hope. Peace. An opportunity to stretch and learn. He's given me a deep appreciation for the healing power of our Savior. And He's taught me that I am strong.

I am positive that lining up my neighbor as my surgeon was a divine gift.

It's just one of the many ways God has shown me He truly does love me and is protecting me and watching out for me in all that I do.

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So, tomorrow, I say good bye to these:
you could not imagine how hard it is to
take a photo of both of your hands at the same time...

And while I can't really use my hands much for the next two weeks, I'm excited about the prospect of being able to play the piano without my fingers going numb. Or washing the dishes without losing my grip and breaking something. Or making a wedding cake without crying during the decorating. Or, simply being able to sleep through the night without waking up every hour in pain.

I am excited.

And so grateful for the outpouring of love and affection. I am so lucky to have so many people who love me.

Seriously.
Thank you.

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I would say wish me luck,
but I feel too blessed to need luck.
I'm being watched over.

But I totally appreciate prayers.

9 comments:

Frances said...

You will be in our prayers here in Texas. Good luck!

Leigh said...

first ... I wish I could have seen you attempt to take that photo. Price. Less.

second ... I love you and you're awesome and I can't wait until you can cut into a Cafe Rio burrito with me and not hurt!

Analeis Paul said...

Good luck tomorrow Shanna. I hope you feel better soon!

Erica said...

I'll be praying for you too! Love you, Shan. :o)

Kiley said...

Hugs! I'm praying for you so much!

blair and maisy said...

Hope everything goes well! That's crazy how everything fell into place the way it did.

Anonymous said...

Truly inspirational.

Lauren Davison said...

Awww. I miss you. And love you tons.

paxtonfam said...

I hope it went well! That is such a great story, thanks for sharing.