Wednesday, November 27, 2002

CONTRAST BATHS My therapy now

CONTRAST BATHS

My therapy now consists of a variety of uncomfortable gestures designed to increase my range of motion, and twice-daily contrast baths.  I fill one bucket with hot water and one with cold, and I plunge my wrist into each one for a minute, alternating ten times.  After 10 mintues I’m supposed to pull out and massage my scar in a circular motion. According to my instructional sheet this process forces out “stubborn, stale fluids” from my swollen wrist and into the rest of my ostensibly comparatively svelte self.  Blood and lymph, trapped in congested tissues since my injury and surgery, are literally pumped away by the cycles of heat and cold, dilation and constriction, yin and yang.  I feel a tingle in my hand and arm as I move from the cold bucket to the hot bucket, the heat permeating chilled flesh and amplifying my energy, drawing it down, pulling it to my drowned skin; I feel a sting as I switch back to the cold water, an outrush, an expulsion of stagnant humors as the vessels seize and clench against the chill, each finger leaching warmth, the coolness creeping up to my elbow… I find this process strangely comforting and relaxing.  I don’t multitask while I do it; I stand quietly and experience it for one-sixth of an hour.  I don’t know how much it helps my arm but I am starting to think it’s doing my head some good.