The only time I canít fully protect my fragile wrist is when Iím asleep. Sometimes Iíll startle myself awake and find my head resting on my arm, with my hand wrapped awkwardly around the back of my head. It wakes me up in a hurry when I try to unwrap myself and find that the old pain is shooting through my arm again.
And lately, for some reason, it seems all I want to do is sleep. I put in a full dayís work on payroll today, but a couple of times I reached a point where I couldnít keep going. I had to sit in the recliner and close my eyes for a few minutes. Itís not as if Iím not sleeping through the night (although my nights start in the wee hours and end a little later than they should).
As for that diminishing percentage of time when Iím awake and moving about, Iím getting better at not doing what needs not to be done. Sometimes itís easy to forget that thereís a problem, or a potential problem, because the pain isnít bad all the time the way it was. But it comes back fast when I screw up, so I tend not to screw up very often.
Itís like those psychology experiments I volunteered for in college (not by choice; it was part of the assignment in my psych class that you had to ďvolunteerĒ). You learn quickly not to trade the box for whatís behind the door, if thereís always an angry dragon behind the door.