I was in the hospital after a serious accident and I had been in a coma for eight days. When I finally awoke, my right arm was in a sling, after receiving a steel plate and what appears to be eight large wood screws that keeps my shattered arm from falling off. Interestingly the bone that was shattered is called the humerus, which I find odd because there is absolutely nothing funny about it at all if you ask me.
For my entire life, I have always been very dependent on the use of my right arm for just about every activity including writing, throwing, catching and of course even eating.
My lazy left arm on the other hand, (no pun intended:-) is the result of 70 years of neglect and is best used for lesser tasks such as helping to pull up my pants, scratching the left side of my butt, and as an integral member of the official shoelace tying team.
So, it should be obvious that my left hand is of no use to me where fine motor skills and dexterity is required.
As I laid in my hospital bed the day after having my arm reconstructed, I spent my time trying to get used to the notion of only having one useful hand for the next three months. It didn’t really dawn on me how much I rely on my right hand every day. I won’t get into the details of the nasty personal hygiene tasks that are assigned to my dominant right arm, but suffice it to say they are critical!
About this time, an orderly interrupted my train of thought by entering the room and delivering my supper on a tray which he placed on the table that straddled my bed. I stared at tonight’s offering of a pork chop, mashed potatoes and a medley of vegetables like a starving wild animal ready to pounce on his prey. I then came face to face with the reality of new physical limitations. How am I supposed to cut this bloomin’ pork chop with just one hand?
My first attempt wasn’t very successful with the pork chop flying off the plate, bouncing on the tray, sliding across the table and finally landing on my lap. Clearly this was going to take more thought on my part.
I somehow managed to retrieve said chop off of my lap and did what every carnivore has done since the beginning of time. I held the meat in my left hand, and tore pieces off it with my teeth. Not pretty, but it did the job. Of course, as soon as I finished inhaling the pork chop, a second orderly walked into the room and said, “Can I cut your meat up for you…… Oh, I see you managed it yourself…”
Feeling quite proud of my new found ability to feed myself with only my shaky left hand, I focused on the lesser elements on my plate. The mashed potatoes were no match for me because they stuck to the fork and most of it made it all the way to my mouth. A little sloppy, but hey, I was on a roll!
Finally, it was time to tackle the steamed vegetables. The broccoli was no problem, because I just stabbed it with my fork. However, my biggest challenge came next as I attacked the pile of sweet green peas. Those little green balls are slippery little buggers, especially if they’re not cooked long enough and hard as a rock. Try to spear them with a fork and they just bounce right off the end like you’re trying to stab a ball bearing.
A moment later a nurse came into my room to drop off my meds for
the evening. I could sense by the look on her face that she was having
a difficult time and I knew her shift was just about over for the day.
I looked her straight in the eyes, and with my best sad face puppy dog eyes, I said, “I’m very sorry, but I’ve had a bit of an accident”.
She looked at me as if to say, oh great, something else to top off my day. She kind of grumbled and asked, “What happened?”
“I’ve peed on the bed and onto the floor.”
A very perturbed look came over her face and she said, “I’ll send someone in to get you cleaned up.”
“I said, oh there’s no need for that. But I’d really appreciate it if you could do me a big favor and pick up the peas off the end of the bed, and there’s some on the floor. Be careful, I don’t want you to step on them and slip.”
With that she looked on the bed sheet and floor and burst out laughing!
I said, “I’ll bet you won’t forget that one for a while, will you?”
As she turned to leave, I saw her wipe a small tear out of the corner of her eye, and she just said, ”Thank you, I needed that!”
I knew my task for the day was complete.
COPYRIGHT 2025 K L SMITH ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
