short-handed

I suppose it was bound to happen. I was tempting fate. Living on borrowed time...

At the beginning of this week, I fractured the bone and dislocated the knuckle of my right hand pinky finger. Doesn't sound major but when your right and only hand gets put into a cast, you've got a bit of a dilemma.

I was out at the barn working with one of our new horses, when he spooked and ripped a lead line through my fingers, leaving my littlest fifth finger pointing at an angle that it was not meant to do naturally.

The doctor at urgent care realigned, to put it nicely, my finger and braced it. On Wednesday the orthopedist fixed it up with a beautiful purple cast and sent me home with some wishful thinking instructions like don't use your hand. He had no idea what he was asking.

And so I find myself sitting on my best friends couch, unable to accomplish even the most menial task like drinking my morning coffee without assistance. I've never broken anything before much less the one and only good hand I have. No offense to poor Finneas who is now pulling more than his share of weight.

We are making history here at OneArmGirl.

But sometimes your life takes a drastic turn and you must seize the opportunity to learn to do as much as you can with your feet. That must be a famous quote somewhere.

The thoughtful reader may ask how it is that I am even writing this post right now when typing is clearly out of the question, aside from hunting and pecking with one of the two fingers that are still usable.

Voice-activated dictation is a beautiful thing.

So I continue to write and e-mail, though driving and bathing myself are out of the question. Any horse activities and aeriel shenanigans are also on hold.

On the bright side, I now have plenty of time to binge watch Scandal on NetfliX and catch up on serious news stories like "The Top 10 People Who Didn't Make a Difference in 2014" from The Onion.

My New Year's resolution is to increase my rate of bone growth.

OneArmGirl