naming names

In Harry Potter one is never supposed to say Voldemort out loud, as it will give the dark lord more power. In the Lighting Thief books (one of my favorite series ever), same thing—uttering the gods' names is a major no.

There's power in naming. Acknowledging. Identifying.

Fractured hamate bone. Torn rotator cuff.

My injuries have been outed.

And they hurt even more.

Crazy?

Yes. But that's what's going on.

Or, it could be that I stopped taking anti-inflammatories and now am feeling what's been there all along.

Sigh.

The pain isn't major. It doesn't stop me in my tracks, take my breath away, bend me over double.

I know that pain. Childbirth without drugs. A burst ear drum. An exposed nerve in my tooth. That was pain. PAIN. Intense, seeing red, losing sight of reality pain.

This is more annoying. Slightly incapacitating most of the time, more in certain situations. I can't open windows, lift heavy pots or pans, open a jar that's too tight. I can't reach around to the back seat of the car, to the top shelf, carry overloaded bags anymore. I can't practice yoga with freedom.

I'm cautious. Nervous. Afraid I'll make things worse.

Afraid I won't get better.

But, I started 3 homeopathic remedies the day before yesterday. Boiled ginger chunks and held them in my palm until they cooled. Am seeing an acupuncturist along with my orthopedist tomorrow. Next on my to-do list is physical therapy and finding someone who can do serious hand massage.

I'm not giving up without a fight. I'm not signing on for surgery unless nothing else works.

But the fall of being in the best shape of my life has crumbled around me. And with it, optimism has taken a back seat.