Sometimes Things Just Happen

Ugh. I wiped the sweat beading on my brow and took a breath. An immense holiday ham was staring up at me. It was securely tucked into the awkward outer webbing and triple thick, plastic inner wrap … defying any thought of extrication. But hey, I am the keeper of this kitchen and the roaster of this delightful hunk of meat.

We will have a wonderful holiday meal! Applying my proactive card, I grabbed the sharp kitchen scissors and cut the thick webbing here and there and the awkward protective sheath fell to the side. Then, with a stronger pair of shears, I launched into the impenetrable coat, clipping long slits to pry the ham loose. With one hand steadying the cold, slimy hunk, I tugged. The giant ham winked and resisted. I steadied myself and yanked. The ham tumbled unto the floor, looking up at me as if smiling. “Oh no, you don’t!”

I quickly eased it back onto the counter and, with the sharpest kitchen knife, cut off a sizable piece of plastic. Ahaa… with both hands, using the strength of my thumbs, I pulled while yelled strange Tarzan calls. Time halted … but with the last heave-ho it moved! Finally. The ham eased into my arms. Success! Flavoring it with spices and brown sugar, the ham was positioned into the heated oven. A warm glow of success hugged as savory aromas filled the air.

As I went about cleaning the mess, there was an odd pit in my stomach. Something was wrong.  My right hand was acting strange.  As I cleaned the silverware, my fingers were clumsy in picking up the dirty utensils. What?

I turned my hand this way and that … my thumb was stuck.  And no matter how hard I willed it to move, it would not.  In my effort to prepare this meal, I had destroyed my thumb! 

I thought to myself, “Could this really be happening?”  I tried again.  Nothing.  

A wave of frustration swept over me.  I would not be undone by a slippery piece of meat. There had to be another way.

I massaged the thumb ever so gently. Then singing soft tunes, I applied warm compresses. Taking a common inflammation pill from the cupboard, I made a cup of calming herbal tea. I hoped my thumb would somehow respond. It was still stuck.

Two days later, I sat in an office awaiting results of a hand and thumb test. The surgeon pushed open the door, his gaze subdued. He launched into a lengthy explanation of the best procedure.

In simple terms, another finger would be permanently dismantled to rebuild the injured thumb. My head was swimming.  I realized just how serious this ham thing was. 

Seeking reassurance, I stared into the face of the doctor. His intense eyes met mine, his face tight and solemn. “This would be a very involved and painful procedure.”

Gently placing the pen down, I left the office. I did not want a hand where only four fingers worked. There had to be another way.

What?  There had to be other possibilities to explore… something else to remedy this.  So, I spent quality time in the library researching, reading … essentially clearing the shelves. I became a kind of reporter, speaking to others who had a similar experience and really listening to their stories.

I shared this dilemma with family and friends, grateful for their concern. And seeking strength and fortitude in this process, they lifted many prayers for the healing of my condition.

I did find a common thread in my research...that nerve damage could be reconciled by nerve regeneration. It would be an extremely slow process, but it gave me hope instead of the anxiety of a horrible operation.  I remained patient and waited.

Now, several months after this episode, I have seen improvement in my thumb with a goodly amount of nerve regeneration. Stronger than before, my right-hand flows with the left hand although the left still bears more responsibility.  My right-handed gross motor skill continues to improve although the fine motor has a way to go. So I forge on …each day a focused effort to rehabilitate my thumb.

Things happen. Resolve and determination can prompt alternatives and noticeable improvement. And while my thumb is not perfect, I appreciate the gains made through this time of frustration. Yes, sometimes things just do happen.  But how we respond can make the difference.    

Hmm … the holidays will soon be with us. This time I am considering making a cheesy lasagna. 

… “and that’s how I live it.”