279. Why Celebrate My Left Hand

The photo above will link you to AxeVentures, the San Diego establishment in which I managed to make a sharp blade stick into a wall of wood after enough failed attempts that I felt as elated as this pose appears. And while I threw the axe with my right hand and NEVER would have thought it was a good idea to use my left (for the safety of myself and others and because my likelihood of success would have gone down to almost nothing, which admittedly isn't much lower than it was), I want it noted that my left arm was part of this victory celebration.

I am currently lucky enough to learn that no matter how right-handed I am, I need to appreciate the contributions of my lowly left. Two weeks ago, I broke my collar bone. (How I did that is not an exciting story, so feel to make up a clever-clavicle-cracking chronicle and share it in the comments.) During my recovery, my left arm is in a sling, so though I can hold a light object in my left hand, I can't move the arm away from my side, raise it, or use it in many meaningful ways:

• Typing with one hand is slow and inaccurate. My friend and colleague (Hi, AJ, and thanks again!) showed me how to use voice controls to text and write emails, but I don't have access to that technology on every device or in every document.
• Except when I ask my husband to put my hair into a ponytail, I look like the Bride of Frankenstein each morning because I can't bring both hands to my head with a hair tie.
• I can't make tea by myself in my house because the water bubbler has a safety feature that requires two hands to control the hot.
• I have to ask my students to take the caps off markers when I write on the board.
• I can't wear a belt, so I have saggy pants.
• Putting on socks is tricky. (Seriously, give one-handed sock-donning a try, for funsies.)
• Signing receipts and taking pictures of small objects poses a problem because I can't hold them with my left and photograph with my right.
• Using my phone is tricky. It's a smidge too big to scroll easily with one hand.

I could keep going, but I won't. I'm not writing this post for sympathy or to whine. I'm writing because losing mobility in one arm, however temporary––because I'm extremely fortunate––is providing me with an aha-moment I hope not to forget. Even the parts of my body that are less capable of going it alone are helping me out in ways I don't want to take for granted.

In case this post seems whiny, I do want to point out two unambiguously positive results of having my left arm slinged:

1. I like to fall asleep to an audio book set to a timer. Since I always sleep on my left when unslinged, my right AirPod gets more use than my left. During my recovery, I have to sleep on my right side, so I am evening out the wear-and-tear on my AirPods.
2. SO MANY PEOPLE in my community have been making genuine offers to help. People drive me around. (One even called the calendar appointment Driving Miss Carita for giggles. Hi, MC!) Hillel kids made the charoset for  our school's sixty-person Seder. (Thanks, NB, AT, and MS!)  Many others have offered to cook, run errands, etc. Two brought me flowers (Thanks again, CGR and CR!) and non-chocolate cookies (Thanks again, AL!!)!! My lovely husband got me a new Bulls shirt (to replace the one the ER staff cut from my body). I don't need reminders that I live and work with wonderful, kind, thoughtful, generous people, but it sure is nice to be reminded, especially when I'm feeling low.

I send love and support and encouragement to anyone out there who has or had an injury or illness or body-type that means for a time or for all time you've had limited use on one arm. I also send gratitude to the many people who are helping out while I recover.

Have you had to rely on one hand and the generosity of others? Any words of encouragement or tips you want to offer? Please share any responses in the comments.

If you've made it this far and like seeing bones, I offer you the photo below of my x-ray, complete with the snap of the swanky hospital gown I got to take home after they cut off my shirt in the Emergency Department.