It Has a Name

I have a diagnosis. After being bounced about between a local doctor who could not diagnose my hand issue, local physical therapy people who were very good, a Work Comp caseworker to whom I am just a file and case number, local HR, and a torturous neurology technician, I was referred to an orthopedic specialist at a clinic that treats problems such as mine. I have De Quervain's Tendonitis. After x-rays and an examination it was determined that cortisone shots directly into the tendon sheath near the base of the thumb on both of my hands might give me some relief from the pain and swelling. It worked. For nearly a month. The morning after the shots, I awoke completely free of pain for the first time in months. But it wasn't a permanent fix. Like the other treatments, wearing splints, avoiding certain activities, taking NSAIDs, heat and cold packs, topical medications and ultrasound, the cortisone shots provided only temporary relief. Now it seems that I am a good candidate for a surgical procedure that has very good, and usually permanent, result. Now we wait for the paperwork to bounce about between the entities who shall decide my medical fate. I just want the pain to stop, particularly the nasty popping sensations in my hands and wrists. I'd like to get ready for work in about a half hour again, instead of the over an hour it currently takes. I'd like to enjoy cooking again, instead of meal preparation feeling like an ordeal. I'd like to carry a cup of coffee across the room without fearing I will drop it. And I'd really like to get back to learning how to play the pink Fender Strat sitting untouched, except for when one of the boys picks it up for a few minutes, in the corner of my bedroom. I'd like it if pain no longer ruled my life, like those magical few weeks after the cortisone shots.