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Writer's pictureJen Sullivan

The Long Recovery

Updated: Aug 28, 2023

An x-ray of a fractured forearm bone that is almost healed
My broken bone is nearly healed

Recovering from a broken arm is the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. Normally, I don’t think it would be this difficult, but other health issues have made this a huge challenge in my life.


I’ve been out of my cast for about two months and I still cannot use my arm like normal. Something as simple as turning a doorknob is difficult and painful. I have managed to resume typing at my usual speed, though not without extra errors due to the stiffness in my ring and pinky fingers, and the little bit that still limits my wrist movements. Turning my arm or hand the other way—that is, putting the hand palm up—is mostly impossible right now as those muscles are still extremely tight. And of course my elbow movements are still limited, so I continue to need my mom to tie my hair back for me.


I’m 45 years old and have to have my mommy tie my ponytail. It’s probably the most frustrating thing I’ve ever experienced: my arm is free to move, and yet it is still so limited.


Occupational therapy has extremely painful moments, like when the therapist uses suction to try to wake up my muscles. She had said it was necessary to prevent the muscles from dying, with some having a serious level of atrophy. My skin is still really sensitive on that arm, making the suction feel so much worse. I am improving, but slowly.


I have recently started physical therapy in addition to occupational therapy, with the focus on my adhesive capsulitis, aka, “frozen shoulder,” situation. My shoulder is not as painful as it was and I have more range of motion now, but I am not able to do many tasks, including hook my own bra. I have one front-closing bra and at least two that don’t give me trouble if I hook them in front and then turn them around. Some days that is just too tiring, wearing me out before I’m even fully dressed. My husband has gotten good at hooking and unhooking the four to five hooks, but he still cannot tie a ponytail.


I sympathize with others who cannot get dressed on their own. It makes me feel like a child everytime I have to ask for help. I try to remind myself that this is a special situation and is not my fault. Had I known that a short five-minute test ride on a new bike would severely limit my physical abilities for at least three months, going on four, I never would have gone. I was just trying to be active, and now I fear that I will never again have full strength in that arm. The chip of bone will likely always cause me some level of pain, just like the one on my ankle on the same side, but I can live with that as long as I can function on my own again.


“It’s just going to take time” they all tell me. I am not a patient person, but I guess it’s not like I have much of a choice.


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