Okay, so with my hand out of the splint and slowly regaining flexibilty, I've managed to resume work as usual, sort of. Invariably, the topography of my right hand has changed, as has its manner of functioning, at least for now. It doesn't feel the same, at all-- inflexible, weak, and senstive. Don't any of you dare say "it'll be alright, you'll be fine," because I'm not having any of that I-feel-bad-for-you-because-something-bad-happened tripe or any such bullshit. I just feel I owe an update due to my relative lack of presence, lately. That's the end of that part.

I've been venturing into alternate mediums that do not consist of pencil and paper, since pencil and paper require a certain dexterity that has not been possible with my left hand or my dysfunctional right hand for the past two-plus months. Such has included painting and photography with a friend's manual SLR (Single Lens Reflex) camera. I haven't seen any of it fit to post on FA yet, considering the vast majority of interesting and intelligent individuals that were there have forsaken the archive due the ever-delightful "cub porn" fiasco. I might just do it anyway to see the response, or lack thereof.

It is, however, on my DeviantArt Archive http://wraith-flametail.deviantart.com/. Go ahead and take a look.

As for the Operating Room story, there really isn't much to tell. I thought I would remember a whole lot more about it, but the anaesthesiologist gave me an amnesiate, or a substance that causes the subject (in this case, me) to forget everything that happens from its initial application until the subject wakes up. So all I remember was being literally strapped down to an operating table with a convenient additional slab for my gimpy arm to get tied down to, the anaesthesiologist saying, "We're going to give you a little bit of this to see how you do," myself responding, "Alright, let's go," and POOF! I wake up in the recovery room with THE worst pins and needles I have ever felt in my life raging through my apparently limp right arm. Fucking nerve-blockers!

Yes, the injected my right shoulder with a local paralytic that cut off all nerve impulses from that point down, so I could neither feel my arm, nor move it. The pins and needles, though, were so bad that it hurt. A lot. So much that I asked for morphine, of which I got two heavy doses in my IV thirty minutes apart. They had drilled titanium pins into my knuckles and through the broken metacarpals to hold them in place while they stitched up. I had a plaster club attached to my right forearm for three weeks, and then a cintra splint for the next five. Four weeks after the surgery, the pins were pulled out with a pair of surgical pliers with no anaesthetics. Here's where you guys start chanting "HARD-CORE! HARD-CORE! HARD-CORE!"

So here I am with a stiff, weak wrist and knuckles. I still managed to stretch a 3'x4' canvas by myself, ONE-HANDED! (Cue the hardcore chant) and finished most of it myself. Some of the woodwork that went on behind the scenes required help.

Regarding my lack of online presence, my reply is simply that life is a clusterfuck, right now. In the past year and a half, I have had a total of about six weeks of time that were not occupied by college classes. I had a week free during the last week of February/first week of March, but that's all fucking over, now. I'll open up commissions, trades, and requests again once I clear off my current queue.