Dominant hands are important.
I’m learning this firsthand (how totally apropos) today as my left hand has been rendered immobile due to minor surgery to remove two small masses from the side just under my pinky finger.
I’ve always been accustomed to living in a right handed world, but always with the use of my other limb to support the backwardness of it all.
Lefties have always had to survive in the world of right, but lose the use of that left limb and all becomes a little more difficult.
As I was enjoying my post surgery let me pamper you chicken soup, Yvonne was laughing at the angle of my spoon, how I struggled to fill it as I dunked it in the broth and how sometimes it would drip from the sides of my mouth. I haven’t quite mastered the logistics of the eating process, but the next few days should be filled with plenty of practice.
One handed showering, shaving and grooming should prove challenging as well, provided I do not slit my throat in the process.
If I were a boxer or a baseball player, the old southpaw would lose his edge. Luckily, I never became either.
But I am a left handed writer whose right mind is on hold at this moment because of bandages, stitches and the healing process. It has taken me quite a long time to type this with my right index finger, but I’ve been tenacious and diligent.
There is nothing left for me to do but wait.
Or rather, there is nothing else to do but wait for my left hand to find its rightful place in my life again.