Wednesday, May 30, 2012

The Tragic Tale of a Hand and a Doorknob

A few weeks ago, I slipped and fell in the shower, twisting my right hand under me.  Five minutes later, after bending down to pick up my clothes, I smacked that same hand quite soundly on the bathroom doorknob.  Two days later, I had a similar encounter with the same hand and the bedroom doorknob.  Since then, my hand has taken more than fair revenge on me . . .

For more than two weeks, my hand looked like a purple balloon, or, as my Chinese teacher pointed out, a mantou (Chinese dumpling).  I figured it was just a typical back of the hand injury, so I kept using my hand and occasionally iced it.  I finally went to the doctor after nothing improved . . . and learned that I had a stress fracture.  No biggie, but I was banned from using my hand and sentenced to weeks of wearing a now-greatly-despised sling.  No cast, for which I was grateful.

The trouble is, although the swelling is down most of the way, there is still quite an ugly bump, the color is still largely purple, and I'm still in daily pain.  I tried typing a bit today and even writing my signature twice (I know I'm not supposed to yet, but sometimes necessity overrides doctors' instructions), only to find that I set it off again and had quite a bit of pain to deal with.  I'm pretty tough when it comes to pain, having considerable experience with it, but wow does this hand HURT!

What hurts more though, is my pride.  I don't really have too much pride normally, since injuries and my many shortcomings work together to keep me humble, but I am apparently not very accepting of my own weakness or lack of ability.  I can't seem to bring myself to ask for help very often, even when I should.  I know there's a lesson to be learned in all this . . . yes, Stephanie, you really are bound by multiple limitations!  No, Stephanie, you cannot be a self-sufficient island.  Yes, Stephanie, you do need to ask for and accept help sometimes.

On the bright side, I am getting very skilled at using chopsticks with my left hand.
"Passage—immediate passage! the blood burns in my veins! Away, O soul! hoist instantly the anchor!
Cut the hawsers—haul out—shake out every sail!
Have we not stood here like trees in the ground long enough?
Have we not grovell’d here long enough, eating and drinking like mere brutes?
Have we not darken’d and dazed ourselves with books long enough?

Sail forth! steer for the deep waters only!
Reckless, O soul, exploring, I with thee, and thou with me;
For we are bound where mariner has not yet dared to go, And we will risk the ship, ourselves and all.

O my brave soul!
O farther, farther sail!
O daring joy, but safe! Are they not all the seas of God?
O farther, farther, farther sail!"

~Walt Whitman, "Passage to India"