Since Easter weekend, my left hand, or more accurately every joint on my left hand, has been either a dull sort of numbness or absolute fucking agony. Sometimes, it’s been on FIRE!
Through it’s day-to-day usage, I’ve either been wincing slightly or having to react like this:
By the end of last week, my hand lived in a pocket. It was happiest in a pocket. Here, I couldn’t expect it to do things like ripping masking tape, which it couldn’t do. I’d instead let it wallow and throb.
So, since I’m nearly 3 weeks without a whole left hand, I thought I should see my GP. I called up and booked an appointment — a week away — but I wasn’t going to wait that long, so I popped to the walk-in clinic.
I know my GP’s walk-in clinic very well from the days I had to walk-in because of these migraines. It runs from 9 until 11, but the doors open at 8:45. You make sure you get there, be 2nd or 3rd in the queue, and get seen at noon. It is VERY important that you take a book.
So, I got there, I sat — I was 6th in the queue so probably looking at being seen Monday week — and I opened my book.
Around the time Clive Cussler’s Juan Cabrilio was beating a pirate around the head with his false leg, I heard my name — “Mr James” — being called like my father.
I thought to myself, ‘Ooo — I haven’t even spent the night —’ and I followed Dr Whomever into his room.
He got me to sit and explain what’s happened, so I told him. I said about how on the Saturday of Easter weekend, Jackie challenged me to a cartwheel. Well, that was never happening. I said, what I would do, was roll down the ramparts, the hill by the roofless Garrison Church. Jackie accepted the challenge, and that’s what we did. I wasn’t graceful. And ever since then, I’ve had a bat hand.
Dr Doctor pushed his glasses up his nose and took my hands. He pocked my knuckles and asked me to squeeze as hard as I could.
As he massaged his hand back into shape (lol, like as if I’m that strong) he gave me his diagnosis.
It appears, rolling down that rampart strained/sprained every joint in my hand.
So there we have it.
I’m down to one hand because of exercise.
I wasn’t lying when I said I was allergic.