Japheth
My orthopedic doctor used what looked like a tiny saw to cut the cast from my left arm. When the pieces fell away, the skin underneath looked very strange and pasty white compared to the rest of my tanned skin. “How’s that feel?” the doctor asked, taking my arm and turning it so she could examine the limb.
“Um, stiff,” I said, trying to move my fingers and hand.
“That’s normal,” she assured me. “You’d be surprised how much your muscles have atrophied over the last six weeks. That’s why it’s important you go to the physical therapy sessions. Also, I want you to continue to wear the soft splint at night, and whenever you are doing strenuous activities.” She pulled the navy blue brace out of a box to show me.
“Let’s just give this a little touch up before we try it on.” She
