It’s been two weeks since the man turned his right hand into Frankenstein.
His injury is definitely making me appreciate the use I have of both hands–especially for writing. I instantly lose 100+ points off my IQ when I try to scribble with my left. My print looks like the specialest of the special ed kids got hold of a crayon and a piece of papyrus.
In fact, there are all sorts of fun things I use my hands for that I automatically take for granted. Like pulling my hair back into a ponytail. Or getting dressed. Eating meals, too. If I had to shovel in my calories lefthanded, I would have to wear clothes to match whatever color food I’m eating. Half of it would, inevitably, end up in my lap.
Watching the man do his hand exercises, such as “try to get the ring finger to touch within five inches of the thumb” is excruciating. As is the game we play where I touch his pinky with increasing amounts of strength and ask if he can feel it. He can’t. His nerves aren’t repaired, yet.
At least it looks better:
One odd thing, though: no amount of scrubbing seems to get the blood off. Perhaps Lady MacBeth wasn’t being metaphorical. Out, damned spot, indeed! Blood on your hands tends to linger….
UGH I had not seen pictures of this yet.Guess it looks better.
Ugh That was ugly.
What a horror! I pray it will heal, but please don’t try to go back to work and risk re-injury! Be well.
Chris, Having developed what is medically described as “trigger finger”, I have an understanding, if only in microcosm, of what it means to lose use of a finger. In a larger sense, I look at such things with the question “Will this ever get Better?” all the time. I can use both hands for most things, but I treasure my left for writing, and my right for doing just about everything else.