Le poignet…

August 27, 2010

Poignet is French for “wrist”.  Sounds lovely, as most French words do…

Here’s to lovely wrists.  I’m hoping mine will return to a state of familiarity, in that it works happily and without pain or issues.  The cortisone shot I had yesterday made it sore, yet it seems to be better today.  I can only hope this continues.

We take too many things for granted, I fear.  The more I’ve been reading about wrists and how they operate, it’s truly miraculous that they work so well most of the time, anyway!  How intricate and complicated the structure really is!

I need my right hand.  I need the articulation of my right wrist.  What will I be without this agility??  How could I carve wood, or draw, or cut hair, or pet my cat, or dry off from a warm shower without my wrist?  Or for that matter, what about holding a cup of coffee, or unscrewing a lid on a jar, or brushing the hair out of my eyes on a windy day??

Gads.  This experience has been so humbling, really.  Two silly falls (or two and a half if you consider that extra slide/fall at Gerbes) and me with a bum wrist.  Part of me is wondering if it’s symbolic, and then the other part of me says, “crap…don’t go there!” Whatever will that mean or say about my future if I explore that route??  Sigh.  I prefer to just think it was a period of gracelessness, and now I appreciate a part of my body in a way I never did.

I’d like to be smarter, though.  I’d like to appreciate things before they are altered or gone so that I have no choice but to appreciate them in retrospect.

It’s time to be pro-active.  Time to give a shit before it’s too late.

Here’s to Cortisone shots mixed with some Lidocaine, and here’s to my wrist!  May it forgive me for being clumsy, and may I truly understand and appreciate all that this body does for me on a regular basis…


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