Something is wrong with my right wrist. Nobody knows exactly what, but it hurts when I move it. The physiotherapist says it is not a bone injury (and I asked her twice; she says its not CTS). She prescribed a wax bath yesterday, which consists of molten wax being poured on one’s hand till one gets a fully customized hot white glove that one can crack into a million pieces as soon as nobody’s watching. Today, she prescribed an ultrasonic session which consists of having gooey gel rubbed into one’s wrist with an electrode by a person who stares at you for no earthly reason, till you have to check whether you are wearing your clothes upside down or inside out.
And when you get home, you are supposed to tie up the wrist in a crepe bandage (those clips that come with the crepe bandage are not anger/frustration-proof.) And if it’s still hurting the next day, they make you tie a flat object into the bandage as a splint. Yours truly has been roaming around town today waving a bandaged hand with a comb peeping out of the bandage all day!
It is a revelation when one tiny part of your body decides to act up. Small tasks become impossible. And dad bragging about breaking his right arm twice and doing just fine for two months without his right hand means nothing! He does not have to pull certain stunts that women have to as a matter of routine!
Ok. That’s about as much as I can manage with just one finger of my right hand.