Thu. Sep 19th, 2024


In the realm where bones and ligaments entwine,
A tale of nerves pressed, a story to define.
Carpal Tunnel, a passage so narrow and fine,
Where troubles emerge, where symptoms align.

The median nerve, a traveler so bold,
From forearm to palm, its journey unfolds.
Within the tunnel, where structures enfold,
A delicate dance, a tale to be told.

Numbness descends like a whispered rhyme,
Thumb, index, middle, they mark the time.
A tingling cascade, a subtle chime,
Echoing through the arm, a rhythm, a sign.

In the grip of weakness, hands once strong,
Muscles wither, a silent, weakening song.
Objects slip away, like dreams withdrawn,
In the dance of tendons, a lament is drawn.

Pain, a companion, a persistent guide,
Aching echoes in the hand, nowhere to hide.
Radiating whispers up the arm's side,
A symphony of discomfort, an ebbing tide.

Burning sensations, an inferno's play,
Itching tales in the affected hand's array.
A fiery dance, a night and day,
In the realm of nerves, where shadows sway.

Causes elusive, like a hidden mist,
Repetitive echoes, a motioned twist.
Vibrating tools, a prolonged tryst,
Risk factors dance in the shadows, persist.

Diabetes whispers, arthritis hums,
Anatomy's secret, where destiny drums.
Carpal Tunnel's mystery, where silence becomes
A canvas for conditions, where symptoms thrum.

Rest, a healer, a respite sought,
Splints cradle, in stillness, dreams are caught.
Exercises weave, in patterns thought,
A journey to healing, a lesson taught.

In severe realms, where shadows cling,
Corticosteroid whispers, relief they bring.
Surgery's touch, a remedy's wing,
To free the captive nerve, to unbind the string.

To healthcare's embrace, a plea, a cry,
In the hands of professionals, hope draws nigh.
For in accurate diagnosis, answers lie,
A roadmap to healing, beneath the sky.

Carpal Tunnel's saga, a story untold,
In the wrist's embrace, a mystery to unfold.
Through the hand's tapestry, a narrative bold,
Consult, discover, let the healing enfold.

By Sarva G