With my left hand free

You can read about how I actually broke my wrist so badly that student medics now write case studies about me soon. But this post is about what happened in the days, weeks and months afterwards. When I first got home from hospital, I couldn’t do anything with it. When I moved, I moved the whole of my right side together, like C3PO from Star Wars. Going out was impossible – someone MIGHT COME NEAR IT. It was lucky I wasn’t seen in public, as putting on clothes one-handed is harder than you think. 
Try it. Trousers: you need to do a crazy hip wiggle to get into them. T-shirts – only if they have short sleeves. Tights. Just forget it. I couldn’t put a bra on. I could have asked for help but that would have been too easy. I wanted to at least be able to dress myself, as I couldn’t work, or ride a bike. Or write. 

But the body is truly amazing – within a week, I had mastered dressing, eating and wiping my backside with my left hand. I was pretty pleased with myself as I was struggling to see how I was going to be able to do anything at all. 

At first, writing wasn’t much of an issue. A squiggly signature here and there, and texting (with my left hand, of course). 

When I went back to work, it was more of a problem. Meetings mean notes. I couldn’t have held a toddler toothbrush, never mind form letters, so I started to write with my left. 
It was illegible. I had to write slowly. But it did improve with practice. It definitely stopped me doodling. 

Now I can write with my right hand but am doggedly continuing to be a leftie. I’m hoping it might make me more creative (unlikely) or reveal an extraordinary and hitherto unknown talent (cricket? Guitar?) 

Who knows if it’s possible to continue long-term?

Either way, it’s true what they say – left handed people are in their right minds….


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