Enjoying being outside, and the blue skies!

Whatever you think about Facebook it’s great for getting to know what’s going on in your local area - it’s how I learnt about this Winter Wellbeing Walk hosted by the local FarmEco Community Farm. We knew about the farm (but not that much) as it’s in the same location as one of our favourite local cafes, and also where I get my hair done and where I’ve been for a massage or two. There’s also a gym there (not tried that) and a barbers, which MOH has tried too.

We weren’t quite sure what to expect, but thought we had nothing to lose and everything to gain by spending an hour or two walking on paths we’ve not yet discovered, getting to speak to some people we’ve not met before and even better, at the end of the walk there was a promise of a cuppa and a slice of cake.

And while we know that getting outside and reconnecting with nature is good for us, it’s not always that easy to do in the winter when the weather’s not so great. I’ve spoken before about Greenwich Park being my happy place, but truthfully it can be in nature anywhere - which given that we’ve moved approximately 150 miles from my happy place, is good news!

There was a group of eight of us on this walk, which was still a little spongy underfoot - wetter in some places than others, but with walking boots on it was manageable. Given just how wet the winter has been though, it was nowhere near as wet as it could have been. Along the walk we were encouraged to forage, and pick up things that caught our eye - this is my kind of walk, I love to explore what’s around me while we walk, not just march from A to B.

At our first pause to enable the group to get back together, we spotted our first snow drops of the year behind the barbed wire fence. It’s good to see them, as it surely signals that warmer weather is on the way.

Next to it was a tree that caught my eye - pine cones on a deciduous tree, that was confusing. It turns out it’s an alder and the small pine cones are the female catkins which stay on the tree all year round. Luckily there were some on the ground, so they went into my foraging bag.

It’s obvious but the more you look, the more you see - but you really do. The tree above has clearly been in the wars with the recent wind and storms, but asking our walk leader about the tree in the centre of the photo below, and why it would be planted on a mound, it was something he’d not noticed before despite walking here for many years. I’m pretty sure he’ll be finding out now - though I think it’s likely that this was done to improve/control the soil that the tree was planted in after a quick Google.

The footpath then led us across a field of sheep who were completely nonplussed by our arrival, but also quite nosey. Eventually they moved in the same way a moody teenager would so we could pass. I’m surprised though that a number of footpaths here are diagonally across fields, some we walked across but others which were wetter we stuck to the edges. I’d have thought farmers would much prefer people to keep to the edges, but I guess if a footpath is longstanding they could have very little say in that.

In between where we live and FarmEco is the RAF’s Central Gliding School and we quite often look up and see gliders, which can be extremely calming - and with the blue skies on Friday, that’s exactly what we saw as we looked up. MOH would be keen to give this a go, but I’m happy watching from the ground thank you very much.

With my observation skills switched on, and wanting to look at the blue skies for as long as I could, I spotted a rather large on/off switch at the top of this telegraph pole - and I’ve no idea if they all have them now or not.

But what a picture, my favourite of the day.

Arriving back at the farm and entering through one of the locked side gates we headed towards the labyrinth, an area well used for workshops and classes thoughout the year, though this year the central canopy/tent has yet to go up as the ground is still too soggy. I surprised myself by knowing the answer to what is the difference between a maze and a labyrinth - I strangely remember reading it in the few days before this walk. If you want to know then a labyrinth has a singular path which leads to the centre, whereas mazes have many paths, but not all of them lead to the centre.

With its red dogwoods and tall silver birches it already felt a special place, I’m sure as the seasons progress that intensifies. It was also good to learn that these silver birches were probably less than ten years old. I was curious as that afternoon we were off to pick up our ‘free tree’ as part of our council’s scheme for residents. We could choose up to two whips from either a hornbeam, cherry tree or silver birch - I’d opted for a single silver birch, which reminds me I need to plant that soon. It’s currently in a plastic bag in the garage but I think I’ll pot it up so it has the best chance, as it’s so tiny.

Anyway, back in the polytunnel and really feeling the warmth in there, it was time for tea and cake - and to explore our foraged items, which both MOH and I had picked up along the way. Thanks FarmEco for an enjoyable couple of hours.

And yes the pine cones, and the lichen covered stick came home with us!

Carpal Tunnel Syndrome and me - a post-op update

Back in April I shared how Carpal Tunnel Syndrome (CTS) was affecting me, and how through an NHS referral I was offered an operation - a cancellation - on 10 June.

It’s now just over a month since my operation, and so I thought I’d share an update (spoiler: it’s all going well).

Ahead of my op

One of my biggest concerns ahead of the op was actually getting to the hospital for 7am, but it wasn’t anywhere near as problematic as I thought it would be. In fact we were the first people to arrive, and I soon learnt that my op was the first one of the day too, which was good news - much less time to worry, or even look worried.

I met my surgeon he confirmed my details, including which hand was to be operated on and then marked the area. I asked how long the operation would take, and was relieved to find that it would only take 5, maybe 6 minutes. We were led to the day room and looked after by the nurses doing the pre-op checks, none were that surprised that my blood pressure was a little higher than normal.

Now wearing my hospital gown I was off to theatre, that’s when it started to get real. Once there I had to hop up onto a trolley and ‘make myself comfortable’ - well, as much as you can. Whilst in the theatre area I wasn’t left on my own at all, even if the nurse who accompanied me was called elsewhere, another was called to replace her. This was both reassuring and slightly disconcerting, the latter because having got this far, I had no plans to escape or even to fall off the trolley.

During the operation

Once the local anaesthetic was doing its thing, and it was checked that it really was working, we were off. I felt nothing except for a slight twang at one point, not a painful twang at all, but similar to an elastic band pinging.

What struck me though was how the team in theatre worked like a well oiled machine, like a well practised dance with each playing their part. I couldn’t see what they were doing as the protective sheet I’d put my arm through was stiff enough to be arranged so that I couldn’t, and while I was curious, I was also grateful.

The bandage was on and I was in the recovery room, and once it had been established I was ok, quite soon back in my day room, where MOH had been very well looked after by the ward staff. He said he was just about to set off in search of coffee, when a head popped round the door and offered him a coffee. When I got back tea and biscuits arrived for me, and another coffee for him.

I wasn’t expecting the bandage to be quite so huge. In the pre-op phone call I’d been advised not to wear anything too tight fitting, but nothing more. It was like a comedy bandage, the sort you see in cartoons.

Nor was I expecting my hand to resemble an Oompah Loompah!

That was the iodine of course, which had been liberally applied in theatre. It comes off relatively easily with wet wipes, which was a blessing as I’d been instructed not to get this wet for two weeks.

Before I could leave I needed to see the physio who advised on some simple exercises to do every hour. So simple that I wouldn’t have usually classed them as exercises, but as the fortnight went on I realised these were showing quite clearly the movement and dexterity were returning, despite the huge comedy bandage.

Two weeks post-op

After two weeks I was back at the hospital to have my stitches out. The white bandage I’d left with was distinctly not so white when I returned. I’d not had stitches before, so I’d not had them out either. That was a whole new experience, and thankfully one that wasn’t painful either.

The nurse was very excited to see how well my wound was healing - she told me it was a nurse thing! There was some ‘canoeing’ but not much - this is, I think, when the wound is more open than is ideal, but it’s not a bad thing as such.

I left with steri strips on the wound, a dressing and wearing a tubigrip and with another for good measure. Which was just as well, as these were even harder to keep clean - especially as using my hand became so much easier (and because by this stage we knew our house move would likely take place quite soon).

Next I saw the consultant who was also pleased with my progress, and who wanted to talk about scheduling in some time for the operation for my left hand. Though after some discussion about the reduction of symptoms I’d had in my other hand since the operation, this was put on hold. While an operation may be needed at some point, I’m very much of the opinion that it should only happen then, and not just because it can. Thankfully my surgeon also agreed.

I’d been surprised that I’d experienced far fewer symptoms in my left hand since the operation. Whether that’s because it was being used more (I’m very right-handed) and so was getting stretched and more active naturally, or if because deep down it saw what happened and decided to behave. Who knows?!

Four weeks post-op

After another couple of weeks I was able to remove the steri strips. The nurses had told me how - get them wet in the shower, and gently rub them off - and what to expect. After being covered for a month my hand was dry, as was only to be expected. The nurses advised using vaseline or a plain hand cream to nourish it - and vaseline has been my choice, it works really well on rehydrating my hand.

I hadn’t realised that the skin on your hand is dead skin, and the top layers won’t heal as a cut on your arm would. It heals from the inside when the newer dead skin is at the surface, the things you learn.

On being out of action for two weeks

With the large comedy bandage driving wasn’t allowed, and in fact in the UK is illegal. Not that I wanted to drive, but not driving meant planning ahead, but it wasn’t impossible. The exercises to tap each fingertip to my thumb provided an immediate progress report, and by the end of the first week I was able to tap even my little finger to my thumb.

While the bandage did make normal, every day things tricky most of these were surmountable.

• Washing my hair was impossible to start with, so a trip to the hairdressers for a wash and blow dry was just the job.

• Eating was harder than I expected, and MOH needed to cut food up for me at times - though he cut things into pieces larger than I’d like. Food that was easiest to eat was anything I could pick up with my left hand, or stab with a fork. Fine dining it wasn’t, but nor was I hungry.

• Dressing was ok, well everything except my bra. For the first week MOH was called on to help me dress, but gradually I was able to do this myself. One morning he went out for a cycle returning amazed to find me still not dressed, until I pointed the obvious out.

• A sling helped with going out and about - not only acting as a visual clue for people to give me a wider berth than normal, but also because holding your hand above your heart while moving about, for an extended period is harder than you think. Really, it is.

• Juggling everything one-handed - I use a cross body bag in any case, and this was helpful as it kept my hands free. As we were off to Gardeners’ World Live where I knew I’d be taking pictures, I also bought myself a cross-body phone holder - this was unbelievably brilliant, and I’m still using it now. In fact I’m tempted to get another one so that I can coordinate it with outfits, and my mum has also admired it. A simple thing, that I wasn’t sure would work, but it really did.

The surgeon advised that as my hand was healing I would naturally use it more. He was right, but I’m not sure he knew that our house move was so imminent, and to be fair when I had the op on 10 June, nor did we! I have gradually used my hand more, but packing our house in a short time span was a no from me, and a no you’re not doing that from MOH - which was totally the right decision.

As for typing, up until now I’ve kept my posts here short or posted those which I’d prepared in advance, but now that the bandages and steri strips are off, I’m much more comfortable and confident to use my hand pretty much as I did before the operation. What with this and our house move though, there hasn’t been much room for typing though now I’m both are getting more settled I’m hoping to work out a new blogging routine and show you more of our house and the area we’ve moved to!

There’s a couple of things which remain challenging, like putting my hands at right angles to my wrists as in a press-up position, but that’s something to work on. Lifting - or rather shifting - heavy boxes still requires MOH’s help, and not just because they are heavy, but because you move your hand naturally to adjust to picking a box up and down again and that dexterity isn’t there just yet. The other thing that’s challenging is the locks on our new house - they’re new to me and generally just new, so are a bit stiffer than in our previous house, but really that’s not so much of an issue.

What’s next

I’m moisturising the wound with vaseline regularly, at least a couple of times a day, and have started massaging Bio Oil into the scar to help reduce that. Though it really is quite small, the whole incision area is about 2.5cm and about 1.5cm of that is more pronounced, though I expect once it’s healed it could easily pass for one of the lines on my hand.

I’m really pleased with how everything has gone so far, but I do want to check out some videos for exercises and massage tips to further speed up my healing. I also pleased that my left hand is continuing to behave, and even more so that I haven’t worn the splints since my operation.

The operation is more common than I knew, since I’ve had mine I’ve become more aware of other people who’ve gone through the same.

And really, my surgeon was right, it’s nothing to worry about at all. Phew.

Carpal Tunnel Syndrome and me

Where to start. I guess by explaining what it is. The NHS website has this simple explanation:

Carpal tunnel syndrome (CTS) is pressure on a nerve in your wrist. It causes tingling, numbness and pain in your hand and fingers. You can often treat it yourself, but it can take months to get better.

But of course, things aren’t always that simple. It’s something that builds over time rather than appearing overnight, and for me, something that I didn’t really think about until it got much worse. For me much worse was last summer when I was waking up with numb hands, which was quite scary and concerning. At first shaking and flexing my hands would relieve the symptoms and I put it down to the weather, then a change in my medication and I thought it would improve. But when it didn’t, and it was taking longer to bring my hands back to life I realised it was bad enough to speak to my GP.

His initial instinct was that it was CTS, though at the time I was less convinced still thinking it was down to a change in my medication. However I went with his diagnosis - he’s the one that’s medically trained after all - and took up the offer of seeing the physio. She agreed with the doctor, and having experienced CTS herself, she told me it was curable either through exercises, a steroid injection or for worst cases an operation.

I left with daily exercises to do, information sheets and instructions to buy myself some splints to wear overnight to help keep the pressure off the nerve while I slept, and preventing waking up with numb hands. I still wasn’t convinced, but I had nothing to lose, and for the next couple of months or so I followed the routine.

And things did improve massively, so I was starting to think they were probably right. But while it was improving, it wasn’t better. I went for my follow-up physio appointment before Christmas and reported my progress. My next steps were to continue with the exercises, and reduce wearing the splints overnight to avoid becoming dependant on them. It all made sense, and I left with the advice from the physio to ‘not leave it too long’ if things didn’t continue to get better, or got worse.

Photo by Isaac Mehegan on Unsplash

Things didn’t really get better, and Christmas and life got in the way of the daily stretching exercises which were a little more sporadic than before. But even after resuming my previously regular routine in the New Year it was more on the side of getting worse, so I resolved to go back and see the physio. Before this though for about a fortnight I kept a log of when and what seemed to cause the tingling, which fingers on which hands etc, and while I probably didn’t get them all - remembering that I’d woken two or three times a night with tingling in fingers on my left or right - and sometimes both - hands was enough evidence for me to realise I needed to make that appointment.

While this was quite an OTT exercise, it was useful in that I learnt what types of activities set it off. And quite mundane activities at that - sleeping was the big one (and I wasn’t stopping doing that) but also smaller things like holding the toothbrush, putting on my make-up, holding a knife or fork (and I wasn’t giving up eating either), holding a needle for cross stitch or sewing crochet squares together, holding my phone and/or iPad (though the latter was eased with one of those bean bag mini cushions) and at times holding the steering wheel. So quite a wide range of everyday activities but thankfully being aware and knowing which of the exercises helped me most, the tingling was now more often short-lived, so that was something.

But it was still there.

I saw the physio again in the first week of February and she agreed that things had plateaued and she was also concerned about some muscle wastage under the thumb on my right hand. I’m not sure if this had worsened since my earlier visits as I don’t remember it being mentioned before, but it didn’t sound good.

Anyway, I was to be referred.

The next day the referral came though, and setting expectations it said the deadline for it to be reviewed was the second week of April, but I thought at least I am in the queue. Less than two weeks later, thanks to being able to take up a cancelled appointment offered at a day’s notice, I was being assessed by a consultant. He’d asked how long this had been happening and I’d since found the notes from my endocrinologist when my hyperactive thyroid and Graves Disease was diagnosed back in 2012 and I’d mentioned tingling in my fingers occasionally then, so was able to say ‘quite a while’. He asked what symptoms and mitigations I’d had/taken etc. etc. and I left with him saying that it was likely that more tests would be needed before confirming which course of treatment I’d need, and an appointment would follow.

So I was back in the queue, but at the next stage.

This all seemed fine, though I remember coming home and saying to MOH that I wasn’t sure the consultant 100% believed me, but I’d see what happens. To be fair there was nothing in his demeanour or manner that said outright that it wasn’t true or as serious, but well, you know how things are, sometimes it takes a couple of visits to the doctors to be heard, and it just felt like that.

What I wasn’t expecting was a phone call the same afternoon from the consultant saying that he’d reviewed my notes again, and on reflection he could refer me immediately to my local private hospital as an NHS patient, if I was ok with that. So that was quite out of the blue, and my perception of the earlier appointment was completely off the mark, no doubt he was considering the avalanche of information presented to him in a short time slot which must be hard for anyone to process and deliver an on the spot solution.

The next referral appointment was booked for the end of March, but for one reason or another it took place by phone a week ahead of that. That was a shock to me too, but during the conversation I learnt that my case had been marked urgent, and that an operation was likely to be the outcome. A face to face appointment was booked for the middle of April, which has now taken place.

Last week I saw the surgeon and we booked in an operation for the second week of June for my right hand, and once again I was able to benefit from another cancellation. I’m waiting for the specific details, but I know where the op will be and obviously have met the surgeon who’ll be performing what he assures me is a simple procedure. It takes place under a local anaesthetic, which while I’m not exactly looking forward to that, avoiding a general anaesthetic is always good. After the op I will need two weeks rest - so no driving - and it should take between six to nine months to heal completely.

Resting my right hand for two weeks sounds sensible but challenging, but it is what it is and I’m sure we’ll make things work. The challenge is getting to and from the hospital as it’s not a direct route on public transport and MOH doesn’t drive - but we’ll manage.

So it’s all been quite a whirlwind (relatively) and I seem to have benefitted greatly from cancellations. Of course, the symptoms are still there (in both hands) but I’m hoping for my right hand to make a full recovery as quickly as it can. And I’ve promised my surgeon that I’ll try to look less worried about the whole thing, which is easier said than done.