I was going to try and write, but with the brace, I can’t. I keep trying but get more wrong keys than right. Sorry! Crepuscule will have to wait.
Note: Solved the problem. Removed the brace. The hand really HURTS.
Funny how this works. Just yesterday I was offering advice on pain in hands and wrists from essentially overusing of these critical muscles and nerve bundles.
Our hands are what make it possible to do the small, precise work involved in most of the activities we pursue. Music, typing, knitting, sewing, cooking, pottery. Unlike the long muscles in our legs and arms and even our hearts, our hands (and feet) consider of hundreds of very small, intricately connected muscles that are absolutely essential to complete the ordinary tasks of life.
Typing this, for example.
Last night, my right hand and wrist went into OH MY GOD THAT REALLY HURTS mode. This is not the first time by any means. I’ve been pounding piano keys, typewriters and computers since I was a very small (like four years old) child. I painted, drew. I chop food and I carved wood. I quite literally don’t know what I would do without my hands.
I’ve also been working on a computer since the early 1980s. Constantly. For work and for play. Until very recently, I still had my piano, but I could only play it for maybe five minutes until the pain was so intense I had to stop. I finally sold my piano because it was just sitting there getting dusty. I had to admit my days of playing were finished.
You notice how rarely you see people my age who are concert (classical) pianists? This is because we all develop arthritis in our hands. My piano teacher had it and her older sister could no longer play. Arthur Rubenstein played anyway, but eventually, the pain got to be too much.
When I sold the piano, it was an admission my days of making music were over. For good. Add that to the endless hours on a computer keyboard and my hands are a mess. I have pretty extensive arthritis in both hands and carpal tunnel issues in both wrists. In theory, I could the carpal tunnel fixed, but I’m not really up for surgery these days. Also, that wouldn’t take care of arthritis which is the bigger problem.
Usually, one hand hurts more than the other, for no special reason. Whichever hurts more gets the ice. When I was trying to practice the piano, I had ten minutes of practice followed by half an hour of icing on both hands.
I was like a pitcher who doesn’t want to give up baseball, but my curveball isn’t cutting it and the fastball will never happen again.
Garry asked me what he could do for me.
I said nothing, but there was something I could do for myself. I turned off the computer and put it on the shelf. That’s what I can do. I can give my hands some time off and with a little luck, after a few days or a week, they will be better.
Take care of your hands. They are fragile. If you push them too hard, they won’t work. No kidding.
Hands are fragile, even if you aren’t old!
Even more than eyes, hands say a lot about the person to whom they are attached. Every wrinkle, every callous — or lack of callouses — tells something about the life those hands have lived.
Nancy’s subject this week is hands. Even more than eyes, hands are the expression of our true self. The way we move them, use them. They show our past and our future. A hand is a microcosm of an individual.
This hand says everything, but softly.
SERENDIPITY PHOTO STORY PROMPT
WEDNESDAY – 2015 #7
Welcome, again, to Frisbee Wednesday. Today we celebrate … Hump Day, or Middle-Of-The-Week. On this day absolutely ordinary day, we write something about a picture. Or think about it doing it. My picture, your picture, someone else’s picture.
This week’s picture is …
Please try to add your own ping back (links). If you aren’t sure how to do it, put your link in a comment. That works too.
Every Wednesday or until I throw in the towel, I’ll publish a picture and write something about it. If you find my subject and/or my photograph interesting, by all means, extrapolate. Any length is acceptable from a couple of sentences, to a chapter from your upcoming novel.
Please link back to this post so other people can find you. And me.
WHAT ARE a “STORY” AND “PICTURES”?
Story. Words. Poetry, prose, fact, or fiction. A couple of lines, a fanciful tale.
Pictures. Video if that’s your thing. Scanned pictures from your scrap-book. Weird pictures from the internet. Cartoons. Pictures of your family vacation and how the bear stole your food. Any picture plus text. Short or long, truth, fantasy, or fiction. Prose or poetry.
To get notices of these posts, you’ll have to subscribe to Serendipity. I’ll try to title posts so you can easily recognize them.
My effort for this week follows.
Everyone talks about how expressive eyes are — windows to the soul, they say.
Hands are more telling. Just look at the callouses. You can see what work each person has done — or not done — during his or her life.
Hands can be nervous, all motion, darting about like birds. Some of us talk with our hands. Sing with them, pray with them, build with them. Eyes see and reflect, but hands work and play. And make love.
Hands can be folded when a body is at peace. I look for competent hands, hard hands, take charge hands. Knowing hands.
Our destiny is written on our palms, they say. The paths we’ve walked are also there. Join hands to feel a life.