Years and years ago, I was fitted with wrist splints for my carpal tunnel syndrome. I can't remember what it was that triggered my symptoms initially (perhaps housecleaning?!?), but whatever it was must have went away. Because I all but abandoned my wrist splints.
Thankfully, I had them on hand when my thumbs began bothering me shortly after starting my extra-curricular job of delivering flyers.
Sore thumbs?!? What an odd symptom to have. Carrying around up to 50 pounds of papers, walking for an average of an hour and a half, three times a week ... and my thumbs were sore? Odd.
But I remembered that I had those wrist splints sitting in a drawer somewhere and I have been wearing them religiously each night for quite some time now. In fact, I have almost wore them out. One of them broke where the support goes between my thumb and index finger, so I have been hot gluing, duct taping, and wrapping and gluing whatever I think may adhere to the surface so that I can keep wearing this splint.
A few nights ago, my temporary fix broke in the middle of the night. I completely forgot to attempt to re-glue it the next morning so when I went to bed I decided to fore go the splints. Maybe they weren't making a difference after all. This would be a test ...
... it was only a test. My wrists and hands were not happy that night without the comfort of those rigid splints. My hands were tingly and uncomfortable any time I woke up. First thing the next morning, I was determined to try to come up with a 'fix' for my broken splint that would get me through the night.
Last night, I slipped my hands into the 'comfort' of my splints. It was like coming home again. Ahhh. The relief was incredible. It is hard to believe that something so hard and rigid spells relief. But it does.
Every time I woke up during the night to roll over, I quite literally sighed with relief. My wrists and hands were so, so very comfortable. I couldn't help but appreciate the support that I had when I needed it the most.
My thoughts became more tangible the closer I got to morning. I couldn't help but correlate the quiet support of these splints, to the support I have (and need) in my life-in-general.
There are times that I become an island. I think what I need is isolation. What I don't realize until I've gone through the quietness alone, is that just like those wrist splints ... it is nice to know that I have that support when it is needed.
To my friend who runs a daycare in her home five hours away from me ... you have no idea what a lifeline you are to me. We chatter about nothing in the midst of our kid-filled days once every week or so. She completely and totally gets it when I say that I am ripping my hair out one minute in my child-oriented day ... and over-the-moon happy the next.
To my friends who I manage to see on a semi-regular basis. Sometimes more than others. Each and every one of you sustains me. You are a piece to the puzzle that I am sometimes missing. We bounce words off of each other and quietly stand at each other's side in support and friendship.
To my family that I tend to ignore when life gets busy ... but I know that you are there. Always. A heartbeat away. It is like knowing that I had those wrist splints in my dresser drawer. There is a sense of security in knowing that you have my back.
My life is seasoned with gentle support. Sometimes I need a little. Sometimes I need a lot. I hope to do my best to nurture what I have so that I don't lose what I have.
As it is with my broken wrist splints, maintenance is necessary. You will lose what you have if you don't take care of it and fix it when it's broken...