My left hand

As strange as it sounds, I would like to tell you about my left hand. There’s nothing unusually strange about my left hand; I’ve had it since birth and it is not the hand I write with. This is more a random observation of pain.

I was trying to carry 2 glasses today [one in each hand] but had a bit of trouble. Not because my hands couldn’t carry them but because my left hand was practically covered with Jermaline. Pink antiseptic cream wasn’t exactly the decoration I wanted with my drink so it took a bit of careful touching to get my glass to the lapa.

The reason I had Jermaline all over my hand is mainly an animal thing. First DoDo bit me by accident while we were playing and I only realised it the next morning so it doesn’t actually hurt but with her being a wild animal and all, antiseptic is advised. Then came the cats during our hurried/bewildered moving. They were calm until the new owners kept slamming things and scaring the living daylights out of the poor kitties: Harry even went up the chimney to hide and in the process of getting him down, deep scratches ensued. Add a few scrapes and cuts from heavy objects and door frames and pretty much frustration and my hand will start to look like something out of a Hitchcock movie. Somewhere during the unpacking I was delegating boxes and sorting them in one room [the room DoDo decided she wanted to be in] and after she narrowly missed biting the movers several times I continued to move all the boxes and somewhere in there it got to be too much for her eager curiosity and as I retracted my hand after placing a box on the ground, DoDo leaped and went right for my middle finger. Consequently I have several gashes on my finger where her teeth got hooked in as I was pulling away. I’m quite proud of the fact that I didn’t get any blood on the carpet or even the other boxes.

I’m sorry if that was a bit gross but I just found it fascinating that with all of this activity around my left hand, my right hand is scrape-free. I haven’t even chipped a nail…

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