Thumbthings never end

Yesterday was my umpteenth visit to the hospital for more rehabilitation, splints and a review of last visit's x-rays. I have now met five doctors, three of whom have gravely informed me that my condition is very serious. You'd think that I'd been told that I had cancer or aids but what they're referring to is my thumb! While I admit my hand won't be doing any grasping in the near future, despite having already had 3 months to heal, what I can't grasp is the use of the word "serious". Yesterday's doc was #4, the one I first met while lying in a morphine-induced state on the operating table about 30 seconds before being put under and being informed that I was being given the opportunity to ask any questions I might have. I'd woken up afterwards in a cast to my elbow and the doctor explaining numerous times to my dizzy and numbed mind, in Swedish, that he'd decided not to operate after all since it was "too late". The upshot of yesterday's meeting was that, like it or not, the hand was going to hurt but I'd better start using it anyway to regain some mobility and muscle. And the re-injury of the 30 year old damage to the wrist? That could get better, stay the same or get worse, but I'll have to wait and see. Sigh - "serious".