Right Hand

Out for a walk on an icy day, I slipped and fell as I was making my way down the path into the ravine. 

The phrase, "my right hand man," suddenly became very real to me. I found my grip soft and it was difficult to do so many things I usually take for granted... like getting dressed in the morning, opening doors, making ablutions. Sometimes I could sub in with my left but not having a right hand was such a compromise. This may have been the first time I  thought , "what if this doesn't get better?" 

The swelling wasn't too bad so I figured in a day or two things would be back to normal. In the meantime, I tried to use my right hand consciously as I did my morning yoga. I didn't stay off it, but eased into poses that put weight on it and then observed the aches and pains. 

I did expect it to hurt for awhile, but after three weeks it was still hard for me to do certain tasks and poses like dog pose were getting harder on my hand instead of easier.

Finally got around to calling the doctor and arranging for an xray and ultrasound. The xray technician let me look over her shoulder when she was viewing the images on screen. There was my right hand, those were my actual bones... and that, well that was a hairline break. Weirdly disembodied experience. Next I saw the imaging tech, who insisted on focusing on the wrist. I had to ask her three times and then finally insist that she steer the paddle to where the fracture had been in the xray. She kept insisting the doctor's req was for the wrist only. I left the ultrasound session realizing that sometimes you really have to advocate for results in the health care system.

Aging! 

Hopefully I will have good health and mobility for a few more decades. The thought of not being able to garden, play the uke, get dressed in the morning... it has made me very appreciative of these day to day privileges. True blessings!