A strange malady has befallen me. I have an aching pain in my hands, between the knuckles and the next joint. Right where the digits join the hand proper. It's in both hands. The last time I had any kind of pain like this was way back when I worked in an insurance salvage store, handwriting prices on items with a Sharpie.
Back then, the pain would wake me up at night. I had to drag myself out of bed, stumble to the kitchen, and instead of pouring myself a cup of ambition, I filled a mixing bowl with equal parts ice and water. Then I plunged my hands in, and held them there until I wanted to scream. The cold took away the aching pain. But gave me a different kind of pain. I don't know why I bothered. But at least I was proactive. Doing something besides crying into my pillow. I diagnosed myself with carpal tunnel syndrome. Since I knew what was wrong with me, there was no reason to see a doctor. Thank goodness the pain stopped after I quit handwriting prices with a Sharpie eight hours a day. I had no desire to perform surgery on myself.
I have no idea what triggered this recent pain. It's not like I've been burning up the keyboard with submissions. I have a comfortable workspace where I can rest my hands on a corner countertop to reach my keyboard. I have not been milking cows with Jon Lovitz looking over my shoulder, asking, "Doesn't that HURT them?" I have not been two-fistedly squeezing stress balls. Nor training for Olympic Tug-O-War. Nor grabbing student ears and dragging them to the office. Nor over-using a re-gifted Label Baby Junior. Nor wrapping Pudding Skin Singles. Nor signing royalty checks from Japan.
And I don't even own a Sharpie.
8 comments:
Sorry you're suffering through this, but glad it isn't preventing you from blogging.
I'm so sorry you are in pain! Your post reminded me about the time we visited Yosemite and my MIL had aching feet. She stood in the Merced River, which is absolutely freezing cold, because it made her feet feel better. Hope you are feeling good again soon!
As my mom used to say, "It's the meanness coming out of you." Seriously, I do hope your pain subsides.
A teacher without a Sharpie? Are you sure you're REALLY a teacher? Oh, that's right. You're a high school teacher. It is the law: every elementary teacher must have at least two Sharpies--one old and almost out of juice, and one fairly new one. (The color varies.)
What is it that high school teachers MUST have?
(Are you sure you haven't been overusing your hands? Not stretching out the neckline of a borrowed sweater? You could buy a high-flow showerhead from a guy's trunk out on the street...THAT might make your hands feel better.)
Arthritis? Hope not!!
Stephen,
The ailment has disappeared as abruptly as it appeared.
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Kelley,
I fell asleep in my recliner, and when I awoke three hour later, the pain was gone. If only I could bottle such an antidote.
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Linda,
I now proclaim myself Mean Free.
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Sioux,
Years ago, I had a Sharpie. The kids turned him into a dried-out husk of his former self.
I MUST have a good stapler. A maroon Swingline, to be specific. I have my name hidden in a secret place, lest he be kidnapped again over a summer. I've maintained him religiously. He's an office-supply Dorian Gray.
No borrowed sweater for me. And Backroads is fresh out of guys selling shower heads from their trunks. But I might try going up on the roof and slathering myself with butter to sunbathe away the hurt. Or maybe a good soak in a highly-heated hot tub will do the trick. Jean-Paul? Set a wind-up alarm!
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Becky,
I, too, hope not!
Mine hurt, too. But, I know why mine hurt. Pulling weeds. And arthritis. I have one of those parafin things that help my hands a lot.
Kathy,
Those paraffin things are wicked cool. I may have to invest in one in the future. Of course, I'll have to skim some money from Hick's allowance.
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