Recently, I discovered my thumb.
Well, I always was a late bloomer.
Seriously, I learned afresh this odd appendage accomplishes far more than catching rides.
My breakthrough resulted from a nutritious lifestyle. While slicing veggies, I sliced the tip of my right thumb.
I hate the sight of blood — especially mine — so I won’t describe the gory scene. Once the bleeding finally stopped, I sought bandages. Ours were antiques. Though left-handed, I couldn’t open the packaging, let alone apply the BAND-AID®.
Hubby to the rescue. However, the old BAND-AIDs® wrinkled, crinkled, then stuck only to his thumbs.
“When did you buy these? During the Depression?”
“Why should I buy BAND-AIDs®, anyway?” I retorted. “Aren’t you the doctor around here?”
Hubby tossed the latest attempt into the trash and turned back to his computer. “Actually … I’ve retired.”
Hmm. I could a) press this paper towel on my thumb for a week; b) go to the ER; or c) be nice. Though distasteful, the last option appeared simpler. And cheaper.
A few “pretty pleases” later, he had sealed a BAND-AID® over my thumb.
Now, I could return to my regularly scheduled program.
Nope. My thumb yelled in pain when I typed.
I couldn’t turn a key without blood. My wimpy fingers pressed the remote in vain. Couldn’t open a medication bottle. All because of a cut on my thumb.
I soon was to discover more tasks it had performed for years without complaint. Joining socks. Turning pages. Tying shoes.
I tried to persuade my index and middle fingers to work together to zip my coat.
Why, when I was left-handed, did this mess with my life?
I discussed the issue with Left Hand, soliciting more help until Right Hand healed.
Lefty, however, turned thumbs-down: “I’m good for writing. For feeding you. For six decades, I’ve covered the important stuff. If you think I’ll unscrew saltshakers and insert earrings, too, you’re nuts.”
So the week continued, with cooking, showering and playing euchre more complicated than advanced robotics.
Lefty, Righty, and I tried not to vent our aggravations on Hubby, who extended a frequent helping hand.
My thumb is mending. Recently, I inserted earrings without stabbing my ears. Or jugular.
Soon, I will return to life as usual.
Disabled veterans, minus more than a thumb, will not. Neither will my friend with multiple sclerosis and her husband. With a faith in Christ that staggers me, they daily invent new ways to cope.
I discovered my thumb this week. Overall, did the experience reap dividends?
I think so. Gratitude is priceless.
Though Righty took the hit, she agrees.
And even Lefty gives it a thumbs-up.
Your Extraordinary Ordinary: Have you rediscovered a reason to be thankful?