Use only one hand for an entire day - Joy Crenshaw, Chicago IL
April 13, 2010
I woke up to the piercing prodding of my alarm clock. In defiance, I rolled onto my stomach and reached through the layers of sleep for the Snooze Button. Just as my right hand grazed the dial, my mind slapped it away. There would be no "snooze" this morning and more importantly, there would be no right hand. Today for Flavor #14 I would be using only one hand for an entire day, and I would need all the extra time I could get. With a groan, I turned my alarm off with my dominant left hand and rolled out of bed.
I had purposely not washed my hair the night before so I could experience the full inconvenience of scrubbing and lathering one-handed. I squeezed the shampoo directly onto my head, as opposed to my palm, and attempted to sense with my scalp how much I'd actually distributed. This brilliant idea resulted in at first too little, and then too much shampoo. Unimpressed by my latest technique, I decided to use my raised thigh as a pallet for the conditioner and body wash. This was definitely more successful, though I never did resolve the issue of how to wash my left arm.
It may have been this familiar awkwardness that made me recall that I broke my fifth metacarpal in high school. Even though I had a removable cast, technically, I had spent nearly two months using only one hand. So, in an attempt to up the stakes, I resolved to not use my right arm, at all.
Well, this definitely increased the difficulty. Just getting the towel around my body required some awkward maneuvering. It was around this time that I noticed that my right hand was actually hurting. When I looked down I could see that it was swollen to a puffy tightness. Perplexed, I flexed and stretched my fingers and realized that although I wasn't going to use my right hand, I'd have to at least move it from time to time keep the circulation going.
Warning: This is blog entry is about to get PG
I had chosen fairly simple, button-free, clothes to wear to work that day, but there was one item that had suddenly become the most complicated contraption on the planet: the B-R-A. I stared at the two cups in bewilderment.
This is why I hadn't allowed myself to hit snooze.
Clumsily, I attempted to wrangle the elastic band around my waist, but every time I came close to hooking the clasp, one of the bands shot out of my hand. For a second I considered cheating, but brushed the thought quickly aside. Vowing it would not defeat me, I once again gripped it by the reigns and finally slipped the hooks through the clasps. Triumphantly, I shifted it around, only to find it was upside down. Not willing to relive the hook drama, I waggled it over my hips, flipped it right-side-up, and shimmied it back to its proper place. This process which usually takes under a minute, took about fifteen. I've heard a few men brag that they can unhook a bra with one hand. Well, I'd like to see them try the opposite.
The rest of the morning was a boxing match between my rational brain, and my irrational project. While blow drying my hair, my nose began to itch, so instinctively, my right hand reached up to scratch it. I quickly intercepted it before making contact. A few seconds later, as though it had a mind of it's own, it reached up a second time. When I restrained it yet again, I could feel the confusion in my head. It was as though my brain was saying, "You're not hurt, so why on earth aren't you using a perfectly good arm?".
On the train I was surprised and delighted to get a seat; there were so many thoughts that I wanted to get down on paper, and there was no way I could write and hold my notebook at the same time. My right hand pouted by my side while my left attempted to juggle everything by itself. It occurred to me that even if hadn't been lucky enough to get a seat, at least I was just a passenger and didn't have to steer a car. My mind flashed to my co-worker Joy, who at the moment was probably doing just that. This flavor had been her suggestion, so she had volunteered to share in the struggle with me. When we had approached Bob and Jon, the other members of our team, about the idea, they had also willingly accepted the challenge (provided it didn't interfere with the quality of our work).
When I arrived at the office, they were all chatting enthusiastically about their experiences so far. Jon recounted the inconvenience of getting a wallet out of the opposite pocket, Joy the difficulty of using one hand to fasten her seat belt, and Bob, the impossibility of tying his shoes.
We were all amused and somewhat relieved to find that each of us had raw and swollen hands.
After this quick briefing on our plight, it was time to get to work. Suddenly the humor in the situation fizzled.
After this quick briefing on our plight, it was time to get to work. Suddenly the humor in the situation fizzled.
For the next 8 hours this was our reality.
With a sigh, I switched the mouse to the left side and started the day. Because I was actually getting paid to work, I had set aside projects that would be easier to accomplish with one hand, but even the act of clicking the mouse with my left took some getting used to.
In the beginning the constant adapting was truly draining, but I found that when I just settled into a neutral mentality and finally accepted the three rules below, the situation didn't frustrate me as much.
Plan ahead: If I was going to get a bowl of cereal from the cafe, I had to figure out how to juggle my milk as well.
Collaboration is key: Other body parts had to creatively take the place of my right hand. My thighs stabilized the carton of milk, while I used my left hand and teeth to open the tab.
Forget Multitasking: Using one hand required that I give each activity more focus. If I was going to answer the phone, I had to actually put my spoon down.
The day dragged on painfully. Every time my right hand would to try sneak in, I'd scold it and it would retreat back to its corner. Exasperated sighs from the other offices, indicated that my coworkers were frustrated as well. From time to time we'd check in with each other to gripe about a particular inconvenience, or to give each other encouragement.
Unfortunately, around noon, for the sake of his work and sanity, Jon gave up the fight. I'll admit that as I saw him use both hands to type, I envied him. The idea of giving up was tempting, but Bob, Joy and I resolved to stick it out.
Finally 5 o'clock rolled around. We celebrated by taking pictures of each other holding up the "one hand" we had used and sharing an insight or annoyance about the day.
Tying your shoes with one hand is absolutely impossible! Try it! (And typing this with one hand was no walk in the park either.)
-Bob McGuire
What I learned:
1. Ask for help! (Thanks Joy! - My wallet)
2. Need to be creative! - Eating my strawberries and yogurt
-John Moran
Only a woman would know how hard it is to put on a bra with one hand.
- Joy Crenshaw
I awkwardly shrugged on my coat and bid farewell (with my left hand) to my dedicated coworkers. The work day was finally over, but as I was walked to the bus, I realized that maybe the real hardship was just beginning. I'd just been sitting at a desk all day, but now I had to function in the outside world. To make things more difficult for myself I decided to have a typical day and do things I would need to do if this wasn't a special circumstance. One of those "typical day" things, was grocery shopping. I browsed the aisles and picked out various items, one at a time, careful to only buy what one hand could carry. Even though the movement was still awkward, and small things like twisting a tie-twist were still challenging, I was getting better at it.
I came home, mentally exhausted, and found my room in the disaster I left it in. The night before, it seemed like a good idea for me to experience the hardship of unpacking my suitcase, sweeping the floor and hanging up clothes. Now, I just felt like throwing everything in the closet and watching TV in bed; that way the most work my left hand would have to do was work the remote control. Reminding myself that others don't have that option, I forced myself to slowly pick up my room, one item at a time. Hanging up clothes proved to be more difficult than expected. I especially had a hard time with my skirt rack, trying to squeeze the clip and insert my skirt at the same time. Using a dust pan was no picnic either, but the one thing that was nearly impossible was washing dishes. I had to lay the dish down and scrub towards myself to get any sort of resistance. This process was very noisy and extremely clumsy so I didn't even attempt the nice crystal glasses. Every gripe I'd ever had about doing the dishes seemed spoiled and silly to me now.
By the end of the night, it seemed as though my mind had finally accepted that I wasn't giving in. As I typed in my blog, my left hand took full responsibility of the keys while my right hand laid quietly in my lap. The nighttime ritual felt easier than my morning ritual; the toothpaste cap didn't give me as much trouble, and putting on pajamas was definitely easier than slacks. As I fell into bed and wrapped the covers around me, I felt a tremendous relief that the day was over and tomorrow would be back to normal.
April 15th
Most of us would consider taking a break a good thing, but today my right hand seems extremely grateful to be included in even the most trivial of activities. I've always known my left hand is important, because it's my dominant hand. But this project has definitely given me a greater appreciation for both of my hands, for what they accomplish separately and together. I've also come away from this experience with an increased love and appreciation for my coworkers. They were such great sports and I realize how lucky I am to work with such supportive people.
One of Jon's insights was to ask for help. I got to thinking about how pride often prevents us from accepting charity from others, even when we desperately need it. That's a shame because I truly believe that one of our greatest callings and blessings is to lighten each other's burdens. That means that we should not only give help, but receive help as well. I am so grateful for the times I've been carried by others, and I hope to be more mindful of those in need, because physical disabilities or no, we all need a hand from time to time.
* This blog entry, I am grateful for those who work to make people's lives better by inventing prosthetics. Because today is Armed Forces Day, I am also grateful for those hands that fight to protect our freedom.
0 comments:
Post a Comment