Arm injury resets priorities and teaches lessons

Photo by Carolyn Wang

“Plessy versus Ferguson,” I dictated to my laptop, waiting patiently as the microphone button on Google Docs’ voice-to-text feature flashed bright red. After a moment of hesitation, the cursor moved and a line of text reflected back:

“Plus C Versus 4 Gison.” 

Half-laughing and half-groaning, I shook my head in disbelief and glanced at the rest of my APUSH Document Based Question (DBQ) midterm essay, a large portion of which made absolutely no sense at all. After finishing, I brought my essay to Tutoring and Learning Center (TLC) coordinator Raquel Kirby, who sat next to me with unwavering patience and kindness for the next hour and a half as we worked to correct every detail the computer misinterpreted, from formatting suggestions to off-handed periods to “Du Bois” turned “Two Boys” and many other misspellings.

For the past month and a half, I’ve slowly begun adjusting to a new reality: My dominant arm’s movement has been severely limited because of an injury. While I had once taken simple tasks like writing and typing for granted, the act of scribbling “Carolyn Wang” was now enough to bring my frustration levels through the roof.

It was hard to accept that I not only had to drop activities such as a highly anticipated flute solo, but I also had to survive with a compromised hand and forearm (for the time being, at least) during second semester junior year, arguably one of the busiest and most important periods of high school. Despite the untimely nature of my predicament, however, I’m grateful, because I’ve gotten the opportunity to gain insights I never would have had without my injury.

Lesson No. 1: asking for help 

The first mistake I made was suffering on my own. When I had begun noticing trouble gripping my pencil and typing in mid-January, I brushed it off until it got to the point where even the slightest movement caused pain. At that point, my parents brought me to the doctor and we obtained an official diagnosis of forearm tendonitis, but even then I assumed that I should just toughen up; I mean, it’s not like I fractured or broke my arm right? What’s the big deal with tendonitis?

Big mistake. 

The first thing I realized was that while the diagnosis in itself was not life changing, coupled with schoolwork, extracurriculars and the injury itself, everything began to spiral down. At first, I made little compromises, such as missing an outside-of-school Olympiad competition in favor of a test at school to conserve my hand strength, which only began to weaken if I wrote repeatedly for long periods of time. Then it turned into an inability to play my flute for more than five minutes without pain and then most-dreaded of all: struggles to do schoolwork because of the pain.

By the time I decided to speak to my guidance counselor, Alinna Satake, it was already mid-February, and I was in a mixture of panic and denial. I don’t think I would have considered seeking out my counselor at all if it weren’t for my math teacher, PJ Yim, who noticed something was off and suggested I do so.

Immediately after my first meeting, Mrs. Satake communicated with my teachers and took action to ensure that I was supported in all the best ways possible, from homework and testing accommodations to copies of notes. 

Although the pain persisted in my arm, it was as if a boulder was lifted off my shoulders when others knew what was going on and could try to help. 

Contrary to the prevailing ethic at the school, I’ve learned that not everything can be resolved simply by studying, practicing or working harder; sometimes, seeking help in the right place makes all the difference.

Lesson No. 2: Let teachers help

Whaat? Teachers as kind souls. I know, shocker. With all those essays, math problems and borderline grades stacking up on our plates, it seems like teachers are mainly expert torturers of the teenage soul.

Jokes aside, one of the most eye-opening things about my injury was being reminded of just how much the teachers and staff at the school care about their students.

Immediately following Mrs. Satake’s email, all my teachers took steps to make sure I was OK, whether it was reducing my homework load, setting up alternative methods to do assignments or simply asking how I was doing. 

The staff in the guidance office and at the TLC went above-and-beyond to make sure that I was supported to the fullest, from patiently correcting voice-to-text typos in my APUSH assessment to helping format exams in ways that would have the least strain on my arm.

Normally, as a busy student too preoccupied with tackling schoolwork and other activities at full-blown speed, it’s super easy to walk in and out of each period without thinking too much about the figures in our classrooms. In fact, I’m sure every student has been guilty at one time or another of waging a mental diatribe against an unsatisfactory grade or a difficult test.

Yet the moment when I was forced to take a step back and needed help the most, I received nothing but support. It reminded me that as much as teachers push their students, they’re kind, empathetic humans too.

Lesson No. 3: Step back and improvise

Like with any injury, it’s easy to feel bitter or frustrated. At one point, I remember initiating a staring contest with my laptop keyboard and pencil for well over 20 minutes (I did blink multiple times) in frustration after struggling to write. 

Despite all the frustrations and the very real pain, I do believe that this entire experience has been a blessing in disguise.

First of all, I’ve learned to change my “What if this didn’t happen” mindset, instead opting for the question of:

“Under this new reality what can I do?”

Adapting was particularly difficult; tasks I was used to completing at max speed and efficiency often took double or triple the effort and time, essentially forcing me to step back and reevaluate how to get things done. 

Nevertheless, I’ve gotten exposed to interesting subjects like office ergonomics, voice-to-text technologies and the power of my left hand, things I never would have considered if it weren’t for my injury. At the same time, I’ve also had to accept that not everything is under my control, and working harder is not always working smarter.