Slight of Hands
Hands unpeeled by cancer scars
and wrought in knots, still knit wool scarves.
Healed too small, fingertips drop beam and ball,
but open the door, lift a child off the floor.
Puppet hand turns a toddler's bedlam
to Sherry Lewis's voice, transfixing lambs.
Nails are lengthened, painted, adorned,
until one's missed, then it's hardly ignored.
Her core radiates from her palm
to wick cold sweat like lavender balm.
His hands, broad as a pillow's spread,
can trace each hair upon a head.
Some injuries are losses, some are gifts. One door closes and another one opens. I treat hands after injury or surgery at my work. Until you can't use your hand, you don't realize what it does. A large proportion of your sensory brain and muscle control centers are dedicated to the hands and thumbs. Your hands have more bones than your back. Would you see a general orthopedic surgeon to operate on your back? No. But how many people go to a generalist when the hand is severely severed or broken? The therapy following is equally complex, handled best by a Certified Hand Therapist with experience.
We learn to value what we have/had after it is taken away or damaged........
May you recognize serendipity when it comes your way.
mmm...once tore the tendons in my wrist and lost the use of my predominate hand for several months...ugh...can relate for sure...nice verse...
ReplyDeleteOdd I've had many broken bones in my hands, knuckles, fingers, wrist, carpal tunnel surgery in both and not once did anyone ever suggest PT for the hands. It was always "just go back to work." I guess they didn't realize that I was done throwing punches and learned to appreciate the verbal fight instead. *shrug* They hurt sometimes but then I can still use 'em for what they were originally intended to be used for.
ReplyDeleteThis is so sensitive and empathetic. Awesome.
ReplyDeleteGood, necessary, humbling, relatable in multiple ways work.
ReplyDeleteSorry this is a few days late.
ReplyDeleteToday [Wed., Aug. 17] the Academy of American Poets had as their Poem of the Day “Ode to My Hands” by Tim Seibles. It is too long to copy into this space, but if anyone is interested, it may be accessed here:
http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/22495.
Here are the opening lines:
“Five-fingered pocket spiders, knuckled
starfish, grabbers of forks, why
do I forget that you love me:
And later:
“ . . . to fly up
like two birds when I speak, two
brown thrashers brandishing verbs
like twigs in your beaks, lifting
my speech the way pepper springs
the tongue from slumber. O!”