A week ago today I broke my wrist and everyday activities are new territory. I am (proudly) notching up my achievements. They may not seem impressive, but remember this is my right wrist, I am right-handed and I have never claimed to be ambidextrous. So, here goes:
- Washing my hair. Well, I thought that I’d start with the most impressive, so basically it’s downhill from here. Coordinating taps, shampoo, jug and above all rinsing, left me so tired I had to have an afternoon nap.
- Having a bath. In the hospital I had a fabulous wetroom. I took pictures with my ‘phone which I must download. At home I feel less confident about using the shower over the bath, not least because I fear getting my plastercast wet. But strip washes palled very quickly, and the joy of a shallow bath cannot be underestimated.
- Frying an egg. Actually I cut and fried scallions and mushrooms too, but it was the one handed breaking of the egg, extracting it with the yolk unbroken and cooking it without large quantities of accompanying shell that made my head swell.
- Poaching an egg. One up from frying. Obviously anything involving boiling water requires a lot of caution. My morning coffee is the top feat of each day.
- Paying in a cheque at the bank. With enormous concentration and my tongue stickung out through my teeth, I used my left hand to complete the details in a wobbly, though legible scrawl.
- Getting in and out of bed. Cycling is out for the moment, as is hulahooping as I need two hands to get me started. However, my stomach muscles have been getting a work out to lever myself not just from bed but also from armchairs.
- Doing the washing up. I lied about the hairwashing; this is my hardest task each day. Especially the porridge pan on the morning when I took my eye off it for a moment and it erupted like an edible Vesuvius all over the stove.
- Getting dressed. Each sleeve has to be tested to discover if it is navigable. I’m pretty good with the socks and knicks, but the bra took a few days to work out.
However, without the help of my friends, I would be struggling far more. Their generosity of spirit – dinner again tonight with Octavia, Celia helping me with my work and bed linen at the weekend – has made things bearable. I love my independence and am not good at asking for assistance, but they have made it easy. When I am once more two handed, I shall try to do something to repay at least part of their kindness.
If only I could teach MasterB to dust.