that's been an increasingly debilitating problem since September. The orthopedist said I could try just getting a cortisone shot if I wanted, but he could pretty much guarantee I'd be back soon for the surgery, so I might as well go right for the surgery since the cortisone shot would just make the surgery more difficult to heal from. I agreed, and this past Wednesday I let him slice into my hand to release the sticking tendon. A 20-minute outpatient procedure requiring only a sedative and local anaesthetic. 
You'd think recovery would be a snap, or I did anyway. But here it is Sunday and I'm still on the full dose of Percocet plus ibuprofen, feeling like…well, like someone sliced into my hand. I had the grandiose belief that I'd be back to work at Jo-Ann's tomorrow, muddling along with my good left hand and not-so-good right hand, but it quickly became clear that I would do no such thing. Besides being unable to do much of anything there with one hand all wrapped up in bulky bandaging, the Percocet makes me totally stupid and slow. So I'm taking the whole week off. Being of stoic De Mott blood, I feel like a LOSER, a PANTYWAIST, a WEAKLING, a POOR EXCUSE FOR A PERSON! That De Mott blood can be pretty harsh—high expectations, to put it mildly. The orthopedist actually told me that it would be 3 or 4 weeks before my hand feels significantly better, but still I told myself 3 or 4 days and I should be Good to Go! Did I mention the high concentration of arrogance in De Mott blood? I probably wouldn't have to be humbled so often if I weren't so arrogant all the time. Funny how that works.(You noticed, I hope, that the scarf I'm using for a sling matches my outfit perfectly. Aren't I special?)
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