Category: Ulnar Nerve

Personal essays about ulnar nerve damage, cubital tunnel syndrome, surgery, rehabilitation, hand function, and disability-informed care.

Black-and-white image of a woman taking notes beside a hand anatomy diagram while two clinicians talk in the blurred background.

The Problem With the Baseline

The waiting room was ordinary enough. People checked in, handed over insurance cards, completed forms, and waited for their names to be called. Patients were brought back in pairs, each moving through the same routine with little explanation.

Dark path with stone steps rising through leafless trees beneath purple storm clouds and mist.

In the Absence of an Answer

For a while, recovery seemed straightforward. Daily tasks had returned close to normal. Typing was more consistent, buttons still took effort but could be managed, and both hands worked together to put on shoes the way they always had.

Pencil illustration of a woman with forearm crutches speaking with a clinician about ulnar nerve transposition, persistent weakness, hand function, spasticity, sensory changes, nerve recovery, daily activities, and therapy goals.

The Second Conversation

The evaluation report was already marked with corrections before the next occupational therapy appointment began.

Decisions — illustration for The Decisions No One Sees

The Decisions No One Sees

Several weeks ago, I underwent ulnar nerve transposition surgery after the ulnar nerve in my left arm was compressed at my elbow. To relieve the pressure and prevent further damage, the surgeon moved the nerve from behind my elbow to a new position in front of it.

Are You Ready — illustration for Are You Ready?

Are You Ready?

There is something strange about surgery. You know the day is coming. It sits on the calendar for weeks. You talk about it, prepare for it, and think about it.

Function — illustration for Function, Delayed

Function, Delayed

Function narrows before anyone calls it loss. The first change was subtle. The sensation between the ring finger and pinky on the left hand felt off. It was numb, but not in a way that was complete or alarming, just dulled enough to feel different and difficult to define.