Have you ever gone looking for help—real help—before or after a medical procedure, only to find… nothing that speaks to you? That’s exactly what happened to nurse Merry Lockwood, and it became the spark behind her powerful book, Healing Hands: Understanding Surgery, Recovery, and Prevention.
What makes this book so valuable isn’t just the medical advice—it’s the honesty. It’s the realness. Merry didn’t set out to write a book. She wanted to create a simple pamphlet to give her surgeon’s patients something useful. What she found, instead, was a massive gap in healthcare literature: a lack of practical, empathetic resources written for patients—not just about them.
Lockwood’s journey is deeply personal. As a retired RN who has spent decades in patient care, she never expected to find herself so overwhelmed and under-informed when she became the patient. She had pain in her thumbs—yes, just her thumbs—but it was enough to change everything. Typing became torture. Even basic tasks became a struggle. And the resources? Few and far between. A couple of negative YouTube videos, a thick book written for occupational therapists, and a lonely British pamphlet. That was it.
So she did what so many of us wish we could do—she fixed it herself.
Reading Healing Hands feels like having a long conversation with a friend who’s been there. The book walks you through the real stuff: what happens when you lose function in your dominant hand, how it affects everything from brushing your teeth to doing your job, and how you manage recovery without losing your mind. Lockwood shares her hacks, her frustrations, her triumphs—making the experience less clinical and more human.
What really stood out to me was her understanding of what people need before they enter the operating room. She breaks it all down: what to consider if you have a choice in scheduling, how to prepare your home and personal care routines, and how to set expectations for help from family or caregivers. She even covers how to emotionally deal with losing independence temporarily, which many medical resources completely overlook.
For anyone going through hand-related conditions, or even just wondering about the growing prevalence of arthritis from our digital habits, this book is eye-opening. But beyond the content, Lockwood teaches an even bigger lesson: true patient education isn’t just about medicine—it’s about humanity.
Too often, medical literature talks at patients. Healing Hands speaks to them.
It’s time more resources took this approach—writing from lived experience, for real people. Whether you’re facing surgery, caring for someone who is, or simply trying to protect your hands for the future, Lockwood’s book is a must-read. And it sets the standard for what patient education should look like: clear, compassionate, and undeniably practical.
