Handy right hand hands down lesson in recovery
This unprecedented setback made me realise how important the right hand is to perform physical activities that I otherwise took for granted my whole life until its malfunction spelt its unsung and unappreciated usefulness in everyday living.
One morning in July, I woke up to an unusual numbness in my right hand that hung limply. My initial impression that it might be due to prolonged use of the air-conditioner proved wrong the moment the bedside glass of water slipped through my fingers like sand. Quickly getting up, I walked over to turn on the light but my hand’s failure to press the switch frustrated me further into hitting the palm repeatedly against the wall but in vain.
An alert over the phone from my son-in-law, who is a doctor, saw me rushing to hospital, where the MRI scan revealed a blood clot in the brain had caused a mild paralysis attack on the right arm.
Terming it a miracle, the neurologist said that the clot had got cleared the same day, avoiding delicate brain surgery but its aftermath resulted in extreme weakness in the lower arm, adversely affecting the right hand.
The first week of recovery was indeed the toughest when I found it nearly impossible to close the buttons of my shirt, brush my teeth, shave my beard, hold a spoon, comb my hair to name a few routine tasks; necessitating external aid from my daughter-in-law to finish my unfinished tasks by using the one working left hand.
The difficulty I encountered while bathing with my left hand enhanced the respect for my right hand to exponential proportions, underlining a popular saying as to why we address our closest companions as our ‘right hand’.
My heart broke and tears welled up when I lifted the pen to write my name with the right hand as all I could manage was to scribble distorted letters all over the plain paper in illegible handwriting. Over time, regular medicine, gentle oil massage, and light exercises brought the requisite amount of energy in my right hand that improved my fingers’ grip and pace of executing routine tasks without seeking external help.
This unprecedented setback made me realise how important the right hand is to perform physical activities that I otherwise took for granted my whole life until its malfunction spelt its unsung and unappreciated usefulness in everyday living.
My reflective mind couldn’t escape its abstract significance as well. It was the same right hand that when gently shaken enabled me to advance friendly overtures and make lifelong friends from all walks. The credit of granting that first unforgettable touch coming off my late better-half too went to my right hand when it landed upon her nervous fidgety palm during the observance of our wedding vows. Nevertheless, all tasks that I’m able to perform with my right hand are critically vital in their respective domains, yet two tasks are close to my heart, lending a wholesome sense to my existence at the tail-end of my life.
One is that I can now firmly hold a pen between my fingers and write my thoughts in a readable format on ruled-pages before sending a typed version for my favourite Spice of Life column. Secondly, I’m able to fold my hands while offering my morning prayers as the palm of my right hand reunites with its left counterpart in the universal humble gesture of worship.
Henceforth, hardly would I miss being grateful for everything I have in life. No matter how little or insignificant things seemed to me thus far, they hold extreme importance now, deserving my attention and appreciation. This life-changing lesson would not have struck me had I not closely noted the gradual spirited recovery of my handy right hand.
The writer is a retired headmaster based at Rakri village in Hoshiarpur.