The cast is off

Today I was so anxious, going to the hospital is scary enough, but going on your own is even harder. As it got nearer to the time to go I started to feel physically sick and could feel myself shaking. But once I got on the bus I felt a little bit more relaxed, as the first step was done.

My appointment with the hand specialist was OK, it was difficult as even though it says in my notes the reason I have the injury, the nurse who took my cast off, the nurse that took my stitches out, the hand specialist and even the physiotherapist who made my splint all insisted on asking over and over again what had happened. But as soon as they look at my arm, they all do exactly the same thing, put this disapproving look on their faces and say "oh, I see". I hate that look they give, I already no how much I have fucked up, I don't need them reminding me.

But I got my wish, I got a splint rather than another cast, but only on the promise that I would not remove it, but of course one of the first things I did when I got home was take it off and soak my arm in a nice warm bath, it felt heavenly.

The wound itself is healing well, I had 16 stitches in it, the wound I had made went across my wrist, but the surgeon had made a horizontal line going down my wrist to make the wound into a T shape. My arm is still really swollen, but that should go down soon.

It is difficult looking at my arm, as it is a mess, but so is my other arm and both my thighs, I have to live with what I have done to myself and I am the only one responsible for my actions, it is just hard knowing that.