The good news is that, so far, there has been an improvement in my arm. The physiotherapist beamed! I did, too. But it will be a slow process, and I can only hope that I can get to the stage where it ceases to be a constant problem.
All this bandaging, to compress the tissue, takes quite a long time each day. Doing it one-handed is quite tricky, and it has been a hit and miss process trying to achieve the right degree of compression. The arm aches, and it is not possible to do anything much with it. It feels as though I have many more thumbs than fingers. Holding the music at choir was quite tricky and makes the arm ache. And I cannot crochet, for the time being, the arm is not flexible enough, and is too sore. Just as well I finished the baby blanket before all this drama happened.
I should be able to drive in about another ten days, and that will be a relief. My kind friend drove me to choir last night, and another friend from choir drove me home. There is an all day rehearsal on Saturday, and bus and train will get me there and back. And I have almost finished my letter to the hospital, detailing my condition and its cause. Inter alia, I make the point that I was less able than usual to deal with the situation, but this is hardly an unusual, given that hospitals deal all day and all night with sick people, who by definition would not be firing on all cylinders.
My friends, neighbours and local doctors and health professionals have been so very supportive, in all ways. And having a heavily bandaged arm helps me get a seat on the bus, and elicits many kind enquiries.