In a web of nerves from spine to hand, A network intricate, a system grand, Brachial plexus, a fragile thread, Injury here, fills hearts with dread.
From the spinal cord, signals stream, To shoulder, arm, and hand they beam, Commanding muscles, feeling the touch, A symphony of nerves, working as such.
But trauma strikes, a crash, a fall, Injuries that shatter, disrupt the call, From sports played fierce, or a birth gone awry, Or tumors pressing, as time goes by.
Neurapraxia, the gentlest twist, Nerves stretched, but function persists, Neuroma, scar tissue binds, Rupture tears, leaving loss behind.
Avulsion, the severest break, Nerves torn from the cord, a tragic ache, Symptoms arise, weakness, and pain, Loss of sensation, movements constrained.
A limp arm, a numb hand, Burning pain, hard to withstand, Diagnosis through tests and scans, Doctors and patients making plans.
Physical therapy, a beacon of hope, Exercises tailored, helping to cope, Medications to ease the ache, Surgeries mending what’s at stake.
Through grafts and transfers, nerves revived, In occupational therapy, skills contrived, The journey tough, prognosis vast, Early intervention, hope can last.
Some find recovery, full and bright, Others adapt, through day and night, In the dance of nerves, delicate and true, Strength and resilience carry through.
