About a week ago, I cut my left hand while preparing dinner. I actually cut it twice.
The first time, I slashed my middle finger while chopping an onion. It was a deep cut and, as I have NO tolerance for pain whatsoever, I swore and yelled and carried on as if I’d severed my arm. Eventually I calmed down enough to bandage it up and soldier on with the dinner.
The very next cut of that onion, the VERY next one, I sliced open my left thumb. This cut was even worse – it opened wide and deep and probably should have had stitches. Even more horrifying, I had cut sideways through the nail, so any outward pressure on the nail (think peeling-an-orange type pressure) caused it to flex in an alarming way along the fault line, as if it was going to snap completely in half.
(I dramatically declared that that was it, there would be NO DINNER TONIGHT, but eventually bandaged up that one too and carried on, only without any chopped onion. SCREW THAT ONION.)
A few days ago, I was unloading the winter tires from the back of the van, after having had the tires changed, and one dropped right on my left index finger. The nail was crushed and now I have a black bruise underneath it that I know, from experience, will have to grow out. I managed to hold it together pretty well. For me, that means no swearing but lots of groaning and screeching because otherwise, no one else could feel my pain, and when I get a boo-boo, everyone must FEEL MY PAIN.
And then yesterday, I decided to take all the broken crayon bits we have around here and make rainbow crayons with the kids. I didn’t realize that my casual idea would result in an hour of picking paper off of tiny little crayon bits. I got so much coloured wax wedged under my already fragile left thumbnail that it creaked with the pressure and pain.
(The crayons turned out great, although a few of them do have a bit of blood in them. Only makes for a bolder colour, I say!)
My point here is that my poor left hand is in a terrible state, and you don’t realize as a right-handed-person how much you use your left hand until it is swollen and numb with pain. I seem to use my right hand a lot less than I thought I did – it is the hand of strength, while the left is the hand of dexterity. For example. I hold the juice bottle with my right, while I unscrew with my left. I hold an orange in my right, while I peel with my left (BAD idea). I hold dirty dishes with my right, while I scrub them with my left; I hold hot pots with my right while I spoon out food with my left.
An entire orange-peeling dish-washing food-serving crayon-label-removing juice-opening dynasty has been brought to its knees. I’m crippled, begging my left thumb to just heal, already.
STUPID ONION. STUPID TIRE. STUPID CRAYONS.