Skip to main content

Losing It

I knew when I was diagnosed with arthritis at 28 that the time I had to use my hands was limited. I had already given up a lot of dreams because of my condition. After two surgeries rendered my dominant hand basically useless all I had left was one. I lost painting, knitting and a lot of other abilities. Thirty years after that I made do with one hand (and got pretty good at it, frankly) arthritis invaded my working hand, ultimately leaving me with three fingers I could use. I was cheerful about it. Three fingers are better than none.

I got thirty-five years of limited use out of my hands, and I am grateful. Most people with my condition aren't that lucky. I think sewing, quilting and my other creative endeavors have helped me hang onto as much use of my working hand as I could.

Now the painful truth is I've finally run out of time, and I'm rapidly losing what use I have left. My fingers are stiff as little boards, the joints swollen and painful. Gripping anything hurts like I'm being burned. My two non-working fingers are twisting and flaring with so much pain I haven't been able to move them for many days. That will likely become permanent in the not too distant future. My left/useless hand is now actually stronger than my right working hand.

I won't let this stop me from doing the things I love, of course. I just have to learn to do them differently. Crochet seems to be the easiest thing for me; I can hang onto the hook fairly well. I can still quilt, although I'm much slower and must rely on the sewing machine more. I can see a time not too far off, however, where almost everything I enjoy doing creatively will be impossible for me to continue.

I'm not bitter or disappointed. I think the reason I've made so many things during my life is because I was mentally preparing for the time ahead when I won't be able to. That's fine; I always knew I'd end up here. Also, I was supposed to be completely crippled by the time I was 40, and instead I got an extra 23 years to function beyond that diagnosis. I'm lucky, and I know it.

Hand images generated by Hotpot AI, which seems to have problems of its own with fingers. Oh, well.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

T-minus Day

This was our little Thanksgiving dinner last year, when it was just the three of us. Time keeps whittling down my favorite holiday; this year it will be just me and my guy, and we likely won't even have a turkey.* That will be a first in 35 years. I feel about Thanksgiving the way other people do about Christmas, and while it's a lot of work it's my favorite holiday. Of all the Thanksgivings I've had in the past sixty years, only three were truly terrible: one when I was a kid that I don't talk about (#1 most miserable); the time I roasted two turkeys together and hosted fifteen people whom I cooked for and served with zero help (the largest and #2 most miserable); and the one I spent in basic training (the #3 most miserable.) I have no pictures of any of those, thank heavens. In addition to doing all the cooking I'm the one who takes all the pictures, washes all the dishes and puts away all the leftovers. I suppose no one else cares because to them it...

Holiday Prep

For Thanksgiving this year we've invited some guests from Oliver's mom's side of the family, so I have to start prepping now to get the house in shape for the big day. The first major thing is having the carpets cleaned, which we've scheduled for next week. This weekend I'll be cleaning out four rooms to get them ready for that. I started with my front dining room, which I use as my sewing room. It was kind of a mess already, so it felt good to get everything cleared out. We'll be having ten people at dinner plus two babies, so this will give me a chance to figure out how to arrange two tables in this space. I think this will be my last time hosting a big Thanksgiving gathering. Mike has started his family with a lovely girl who has a huge, close-knit family of her own, while Katherine will likely be off at grad school out of state for the next several years. I'm also not getting any younger. My guy and I will always celebrate Thanksgiving, but ...

Fell Off the Wagon

I did cut up that plastic dollar tote to make into something stronger, but got caught up with work and set it aside. Then last night some hand-dyed silk and pretty threads called my name, and, well . . . Felt SO good to do some handwork, except my neck began hurting about an hour into it. I tried changing the way I sit and work, but it's pretty obvious that the doc is right.