Disability!                                                                         October 14 2014

   I am learning what it is like to live with a disability.  My broken hand is no big deal; certainly not compared to a broken leg or hip or back.  It is, however, teaching me  lessons.  I am learning how to accept the fact that my left hand is now my working hand.

   I sat for an hour today filling in the small circles on my mail-in ballot.  Now that is a simple no brainer task.  So long as I had decided whom to vote for, filling in the ovals with my left hand was no biggie. Three fingers on my casted hand are free, they can type but writing, using a pen is a challenge because the bulky cast gets in the way or hits any key it chooses..  So, I tried my left hand.  It was like learning to write all over again.

   I understand that five weeks of pampering my right hand is simply a huge inconvenience.  Small matter though it is, it requires learning, patience and hope.  For active folks who are trying to maintain independence in the face of some functional loss, the immediate challenge is substituting an action for the disabled one.  First issue that popped into my head was “What about my signature?”  I asked the bank and received an interesting response: ”Don’t worry about it, however you sign, we will know, we will accept it.”  I fiddled with the idea of just signing my initials.  My son always signed checks that way.  Finally I found that my right hand had deeply grooved habits, it automatically signed a reasonable facsimile of my signature as long as I worked very slo…..wly.

     What about eating?  Again, habit overcame disability.  I automatically pick up my fork with that right hand.  It is clumsy and I have found out a knife is useless.  Those three working fingers are doing quite a job, again slowly.  Finally following nutritionists’ advice, slow down eating. But my left hand is also learning to take over and work. That is where patience is important.  Picking up a fork, buttoning a shirt or un-buttoning it requires a great deal of patience.  Until now I have had a short supply, but I am learning to take it easy, to wait for me and my left hand to learn and catch up.  Washing my face is something I never did with my left hand, but we are learning.

     Patience is hard, I got into trouble by not having enough that moment in the middle of the night when I stubbed my toe. Hope is easy,  I know my hand will heal, I hope the healing is perfect.  If it is not, I know perfection in every aspect of life is hard to achieve.  The doctor has already told me my pinky finger might be a bit funny.  I did not ask him to define funny.  I can wait to be surprised.