Well, Martha, what a strange collision of your reality and my reality. I'm about 30 hours past a tumble down our cellar stairs, which, freakishly, included snapping off the middle hand rail bracket, exposing a jagged blade-like bit of iron that put a two-inch gash in my thumb, and in the process shredding (the hand dr.'s word) the two tendons responsible for moving my thumb outwards. It's strange to tell it to work as per usual and have it say, Sorry, chum, no can do. So here I am typing with one finger of left hand, in a limboland of Oxycodone . . . need I say that everything else also hurts? Yet I feel lucky that I wasn't living alone, that the fire station is two blocks away, that things went as smoothly as possible in the ER, that I didn't break anything or crack my head open . . . there was blood everywhere . . . I had that sudden awareness that this time I'd really done something to myself, something legitimately serious. So. It remains to be seen if some tendon can be poached from elsewhere once I heal. I keeping thinking about which finger is used the least playing guitar . . . Well, you have my well-wishing re: your recovery. The body, wow.
Oh no! I'm so very sorry. These accidents are always so shocking. Like, whoa, wait, WHAT just happened!?!?!? I hope you heal quickly and that you are able to pick up a guitar again in short order.
Beautiful, Martha. “I may have slipped on my own banana peel but I do not feel deprived of grace” could be a mantra for my life, too. Thanks for this amazing essay.
Well, Martha, what a strange collision of your reality and my reality. I'm about 30 hours past a tumble down our cellar stairs, which, freakishly, included snapping off the middle hand rail bracket, exposing a jagged blade-like bit of iron that put a two-inch gash in my thumb, and in the process shredding (the hand dr.'s word) the two tendons responsible for moving my thumb outwards. It's strange to tell it to work as per usual and have it say, Sorry, chum, no can do. So here I am typing with one finger of left hand, in a limboland of Oxycodone . . . need I say that everything else also hurts? Yet I feel lucky that I wasn't living alone, that the fire station is two blocks away, that things went as smoothly as possible in the ER, that I didn't break anything or crack my head open . . . there was blood everywhere . . . I had that sudden awareness that this time I'd really done something to myself, something legitimately serious. So. It remains to be seen if some tendon can be poached from elsewhere once I heal. I keeping thinking about which finger is used the least playing guitar . . . Well, you have my well-wishing re: your recovery. The body, wow.
Oh no! I'm so very sorry. These accidents are always so shocking. Like, whoa, wait, WHAT just happened!?!?!? I hope you heal quickly and that you are able to pick up a guitar again in short order.
Thank you so much for your writing. You have such a gift. Your stories always uplift, and touch my heart.
Thank you for reading, and for this nice note! I really appreciate it when anyone takes the time to comment. So much writing into the void out here :)
Beautiful, Martha. “I may have slipped on my own banana peel but I do not feel deprived of grace” could be a mantra for my life, too. Thanks for this amazing essay.
THANK YOU. And, I know. I think that concept is a keeper. xo
Oh wow do I love this <3