Day 173 : slow, poke


Sandy: When I told a friend that I had just applied my make up with my left hand for the first time his exclamation was, “What? This is the first time in six months?”. Well, yeah. Boy, did I really feel like a slacker. With some tasks I’ve taken baby steps. I really did not want to poke my eyes nor look like a clown or waste my make up if I had to reapply. Maybe those are just excuses. Or maybe he is right. I always thought changing hands would be a slow transformation but maybe I gave the impression that I would do everything immediately with my left hand and only my left hand. Unless one is forced to use the secondary hand, it’s hard not to use the dominant one. If I lost the use of my right hand, it would be completely different for I would have no recourse but to only use my left hand.

When I broke the sesamoid bone in my right foot I had to wear a cast so I couldn’t use my right foot to drive. Luckily I had an older Suburban that didn’t have a console extending to the floor so I could pivot, get my right leg out of the way and use my left foot on the accelerator and brake pedals. I drove only in the neighborhood to practice until I was confident to not be a danger to myself or anyone else on the road. I had to drive more cautiously while my left leg was still a adjusting to the brain commands.

Sandy’s year long journey – going from being a right-hander to left-hander, and Kelly’s parallel trip as a left-hander doing things as a right-hander.


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