Matakana, a pretty village in the wine-growing region north of Auckland, was the venue for Sunday’s launch of the novel Blood on Vines by my friend Madeleine Eskedahl. My husband and I attended the event and stayed in the Matakana Motel overnight.
I am unable to drive while recovering from a wrist fracture, so we took public transport. This involved working out the connections between four bus routes: 814 to Akoranga, NX1 to Hibiscus Coast, 995 to Warkworth and 997 to Matakana. We were almost the only passengers for parts of the journey, and as the modern double-decker NX1 on its dedicated busway sped past the traffic jams on the parallel motorway we wondered why Aucklanders are so wedded to their cars. However the trip did take a long time because the rural buses are infrequent. Our wait in the charming little town of Warkworth was pleasantly occupied with lunch and a riverside walk.
The book launch took place in The Vintry, Matakana, an intimate bar in a complex which also contains a cinema, restaurant and boutique shops. We were served with a selection of local wines accompanied by platters of cheeses and tapas while listening to readings from Madeleine’s novel. I haven’t opened my copy yet so can only quote from the back cover blurb: “… an ex-wine-maker is murdered … a rampage of death is about to rock the local community to its core.” The event was well attended and it was good to see some fellow members of the Auckland Crime Writers group.
Afterwards a walk down Wharf Road to the Matakana River. The public toilet buildings at the top of the road looked most distinctive.
A dip in the pool at the Matakana Motel, and a delicious dinner at the Matakana Country Kitchen, rounded off the evening and our overnight accomodation was quiet and comfortable. There was a spot of panic in the morning when, due to a discrepancy between the timetable on the bus shelter and the information on the Auckland Transport app, we risked missing the 997 on its occasional trip from Matakana to Warkworth. But all was well and we were home by lunchtime. It felt good to have had a “mini-break” especially considering that, due to lockdowns, I haven’t been away from Auckland since my last visit to England in 2019.
Recovery demands a lot of patience, but there have been several positive changes since my last post five weeks ago. I hope writing these updates will help me to appreciate the progress made, and be useful to readers recovering from similar fractures.
My cast was removed about six weeks after the injury. I was anxious about seeing my wrist again, knowing that the two attempts to reset the displaced bones had been only partly successful and the final position would not be perfect. It did indeed look crooked and thickened compared to the other side, and still does, though I hope some of the swelling will go down in time. It was a relief to have the cast replaced by a removable lightweight splint.
I see a physiotherapist once a week, and carry out the prescribed exercises four times per day. I can’t manage the full range of movements but measurements have shown a slight improvement at each clinic visit. Gently massaging the skin with herbal or homeopathic creams, and essential oils, is comforting. I no longer feel any need to take analgesics, but the ulnar side of the wrist is still stiff and tender, and I understand this can be a persistent problem which might require surgery later on.
As regards daily activities the the most significant advances include being able to drive the car and cut my own nails, though I still can’t use a knife and fork. My general vitality, which was impaired for weeks after the injury, has recovered now and I hope to get back to creative writing soon.
On the negative side, the Dexa scan carried out as part of the follow-up showed reduced bone density. This was disappointing because I take plenty of outdoor exercise and eat the right foods. Before considering medication I shall try extra vitamins and sunbathing, and be more careful about avoiding falls.
All the aftercare is free of charge under New Zealand’s generous Accident Compensation scheme.
Five weeks have passed since I fell on a rock and fractured my wrist, as described in my previous post Trauma on Cheltenham Beach. Progress has been frustratingly slow, but there are definite improvements. I no longer take painkillers. I have a synthetic cast which is lighter and more comfortable than the plaster one. I can walk the dog using a harness, and fasten my own watch and wash my own hair. I still can’t cut my nails, drive the car, make beds, cope with tight screw tops or plastic packaging. I type and play the piano with one hand.
Colles fractures are common. While I am out walking people often ask me what is wrong with my arm, and a surprising number of them have gone on to tell me that they or someone in their family have had a broken wrist themselves. From talking to them I have learned that the outcome can vary a great deal. One woman, who had the same operation that I would probably have had but for the Covid lockdown, reported an excellent result and showed me the barely visible scar. Another had a similar operation which appeared to have worked well until she experienced a return of pain, found to be due to displacement of one of the screws used to secure the metal plate, and is awaiting further treatment. A third, whose fracture was treated conservatively several years ago, has persistent pain and weakness in her wrist. A couple of others, however, have recovered well after conservative treatment. The only man in my little sample, whose injury was very recent, is scheduled for surgery this week.
Clearly the prognosis for each individual depends on details of the fracture and the general health of the patient. There will be many months to wait before I know what it will be like for me.
I have been an admirer of British illusionist Derren Brown since watching his brilliant and controversial TV shows such as “Miracle” and “Sacrifice”. He is also a writer and when I learned that he shared my interest in Stoicism, and that this informed his book “Happy: Why more or less everything is absolutely fine”, I was keen to read what he had to say. It’s a big book, ambitious and sometimes provocative, spanning a wide range of topics. The style is fluent and engaging, though tends to ramble at times.
I very much enjoyed the potted history of philosophy and psychology, the critical appraisal of the self-help industry, and the practical guidance on modern applications of Stoicism in Parts One and Two. I would have given 5 stars if the book had ended there but was less impressed with Part Three, in which Derren presents his views about death and dying and argues against the existence of an afterlife. Reference to the work of the many thinkers and researchers who have studied these fields, and to others’ contrasting experiences and beliefs, would have made these chapters more balanced and helpful.
Reservations aside, this is an original and stimulating book that can be recommended for serious readers seeking a fulfilling life.