Left-Handed Blog

Complacency sneaks up on you ‘ere you are aware. You don’t notice until you assume you’re paying close attention to life. Then, WHOOPS! Abilities you depended on to always be there for you suddenly aren’t.

In my case, one rude awakening happened on a walk on a beautiful day. I had a dog leash in each hand—one for a large dog and one for a miniature I say is the curly canine equivalent of Velcro. Everything sticks to him. I was walking on a gradual downslope over an unpaved road that was streaked with mud and slippery hard-packed snow just beginning to think about melting. My attention was on keeping the little dog out of the mud when my foot slipped out from under me and down I went. Luckily, my padded bottom absorbed much of the blow. My right hand gripped the leash of the little dog, valiantly hanging on through the fall…which was how my wrist came to be partially shattered.

Me? Injured? I generally refuse to be seriously injured, but no one asked for my permission. I held both leashes in my left hand as I walked back home. The pain was extraordinary, so I knew what my diagnosis would be. Drat! Tomorrow I’ll have surgery to re-stabilize my wrist. (The pic is of my temporary splint.) Of course, the problem is above my dominant hand—meaning no driving, sloppy eating, and terrible signatures. Completing my final perusal of the formatted version of my third novel THEY’RE IN YOUR MIND will be slow—and no book signings in the near future. Double drat. (Expletives avoided.)

Of course, I know many people whose problems are far worse. My intention is not to complain. I’m merely expressing how humbling it is to realize my spirit is stuck in a fragile body that can be disabled at any time. Wasn’t aging challenging enough? I tell myself several weeks of attempting to function with my left hand will be excellent stimulation for my brain that can use a jump start. Another side benefit, that is certainly not insignificant, lies in discovering how many people say they’re ready to help. At a time when disappointment in people has been a theme, finding so much caring feels wonderful. I’m not sure if I could say the experience is worth it, but it is a dramatic reminder to be kind whenever possible. We’re all spirits in frail packages that have suffered blows.