Page 6 of The Last Love Story
Justin Ayers: You’re mean. That’s mean.
Me: You chose your path. Now you have to live with it. Have a goodnight.
Justin Ayers: Somehow I get the feeling… I’m going to be in pain.
Me: Don’t say I didn’t warn you…
Me: [Taylor SwiftBlank SpaceGif]
Justin Ayers: Is this going to hurt more or less than the ATWTMV?
Me: Ha! I’m not sure, but I would highly suggest that song as a reading companion. Good night!
Justin Ayers: Enjoy sleeping peacefully while I suffer.
Me: Gotta be up early for my tea with the devil. Sweet dreams!
I laugh as I put my phone in do not disturb mode and turn out the light.
Maybe it’s a good thing he messaged me. Now I can get to know the real person, and hopefully my unrealistic crush will fade.
CHAPTER THREE
JADE
“Surgery is the best option,”my doctor says, dashing any remaining threads of hope I had about avoiding it.
Carpal tunnel is the worst, and mine has proved to be a particularly bad case. I’ve battled it for years, but over the last six months, it’s gotten so severe that it’s been much harder than normal for me to write or do a lot of basic tasks without pain.
My doctor warned me this was coming, but we were exhausting every other option—and lots of physical therapy first. But nothing helped. I even worked with an occupational therapist to set up my workspace and watch how I held my arms while I typed, but she was impressed with how much thought and attention I already put into it.
I tried switching to dictation, but it was difficult for me to write that way, and even when I did get some good content, the more frequent moving of the mouse to fix problem spots was even worse on my hand than typing.
It’s only on my right side, so I try to rely on my left more, especially for everything not typing related, but there’s only so much I can do since my right side is my dominant side.
I’ve done all I can do. Now…fuck.This is going to mess with everything. It will set back my writing schedule for the rest of the year unless I get a lot better at dictation.
“What does the recovery period look like?”
“It will probably take a couple of months to get back to normal for daily activities, and to fully restore hand strength can take between six months to a year. After the surgery, you’ll start with rest and then move on to physical therapy.”
“And how long before I can type again?” My voice is meek. I hate it. But it’s like the center of my life is slipping away from me.
“As much as you are currently? Probably two to three months. You can ease into it sooner, but building up to it and maintaining good posture is going to be important.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
“Of course. I’ll take you out to our receptionist so she can get you scheduled.”
I swallow and nod, following him out of the room and down the hall until I’m sitting in an uncomfortable chair in front of a perpetually upbeat woman.
“Carpal tunnel release surgeries take place in our outpatient surgery area. You’ll be awake for the surgery, and only a local anesthetic will be used.” She slides a piece of paper across the counter between us. “This goes into further detail about it, and a nurse will call you forty-eight hours beforehand to discuss the details and preparation. It looks like we’re scheduling a couple weeks out. I’m looking at June 29th.”
“Um, I can’t do that. I have to be out of town for work that weekend.”
“Okay, our next availability is July 8th.”
Nodding, I force a smile. “Yes. That should be fine.”
