Sunday, May 20, 2007


I've just developed an amazing respect for left-handed people in a right-handed world.

And an even greater respect for people who only have the use of one hand.

Since my dog most unhelpfully decided to chase a cat - and in the course of which dragged me with him for the first few yards - my right arm has been useless.

I can't cook, because I can't chop with my left hand. I can't clean (not that I do much of that), I can't type anything longer than a few sentences - but that's because I find it so frustrating that it takes such a long time. I can't write with a pen. I can't tie shoelaces.

The ironing board will soon collapse under the weight of clean but very wrinkly clothes. I can't cycle. The digi camera is designed for a right-handed person, although it doesn't stop Worn-out Partner - who is left-handed - being able to use it. I have visions of dropping it.

I can put my contact lenses in - and fortunately can take them out too, I can open things - jars, bottles, bags, although I need to use my feet or toes or knees to help.

But I am feeling pretty useless. I guess I should sit back and enjoy being waited on.

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