Identity crunch…

November 3, 2010

I got a second opinion yesterday regarding my wrist and the torn ligament.  Suffice it to say, something will need to be done, and that something will probably mean recovering after surgery and readjustment to a wrist that is no longer “normal”.

My right hand is my dominant hand, and is the one that is compromised.  After surgery, it won’t be the same.  Something better than a wrist that is slowly deteriorating, I hope, yet not the same as before.  I don’t know right now what it will be like to sculpt, or even if I will be able to pick up a chisel.  I’m questioning the sanity of cosmetology school and the pursuit of a career cutting hair with a prognosis such as mine, and I’m wondering who I may be after this is all done.  So much of how I view myself is tied in with what I can do with my hands.  It’s humbling and quite unnerving at this point to realize how many eggs I have placed in that one basket.

I’m wondering how I will define who I am.

Who am I if I can no longer chisel on stone or wood?

Who am I if I don’t finish school and become a hair stylist?

Who am I if I don’t contribute in ways I have always seen as having value?

Who am I if I no longer call myself an artist?

Who am I if I drop every single notion of what I thought defined me?

and on a more superficial layer…

Who am I if I change my hair color?

Who am I if I give up my life long obsession with my weight?

Who am I???  Who will I be??

We place so much value on what we do, how we look, how much money we make, how much we ‘fit in’, and on and on, ad nauseum.

If you strip it all away, surely there is something left?  How do we define the non-tangibles?  How do I measure the other gifts I may have to offer?  Does it matter that my cat loves me?  Does it matter that I can offer solace and friendship to another?  Does it matter that I love and feel deeply?

I don’t want this issue with my wrist.  I want things to be like they were before, but they are not.

I’m scared.  I’ll admit it.  I am unsure of what the future holds.  Maybe I’m most afraid of what will be left, and what will not be…


MRI’s and maudlin notions…

September 23, 2010

I had an MRI on my wrist on Monday and heard the results this afternoon.  Tear in the scapholunate ligament.  Apparently the ligaments in the wrist are named after the bones they connect, and this particular ligament joins the scaphoid and lunate bones (carpals) of my right wrist.

I’m trying not to panic.  I’m in school, and the last thing I need to hear is that I need surgery on my wrist to repair the tear.  I won’t know all the details until my follow up appointment on the 4th of October, yet my mind is already racing.  It will be hard not to google all the ways in which I should be concerned, and my most sincere hope is that I can stay centered throughout this process and *know* that my goal of getting through hair design school without any major hiccups will be feasible.

Did I mention I’m trying not to freak?

This is my precious right hand.  My intricately executed and beautifully designed right hand.  I don’t doubt that it has been seriously comprimised by two falls.  Ever watch those slow motion videos of people running on treadmills?  Notice how it seems impossible that their knees and ankles can take such impact?  Yeah.  I guess my wrist is pretty damn miraculous for being in one piece *at all* after several falls.

Good lord.  This is not what I need or want.  I’m feeling kind of sorry for myself (hence the title bit, ‘maudlin notions’), and I just don’t get it.  Like Lee said, perhaps there is nothing ‘to get’.  It just happened, and now it just needs to be fixed.

Fortunately for me, I’m way ahead for my quilt show in January, and I think and hope and pray that I can find a way to continue with school, sans interruption.  I just don’t know how that picture looks just yet, and waiting is not my strong suit.

Wish me luck… Wish me the courage not to expect the worst.  Let me be like the water and flow around the obstacle(s) that seem to be in my path.  Fluid and formless.  Adaptable.

Maybe that is the lesson…  if, indeed, there is one.  Acceptance and adaptability.  The “A” words…

Wish me luck…

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