The Best Medicine

Six weeks after shoulder surgery my left arm still has not recovered from nerve damage incurred during the operation. I still can’t raise my forearm, my  thumb and index finger are partially numb and my fingers won’t fully straighten.

I faithfully do the prescribed exercises and try to use my left hand to perform small tasks with my forearm supported in a sling. I’m able to move my arm a little now, but progress is going at a snail’s pace.

Dennis still has to prepare almost all of our meals, although he is ill-prepared for cooking. He does make good fried eggs, though, and sometimes serves them with biscuits he makes from scratch.

Ocassionally my patience wears thin and I cry in frustration when my hand can’t perform some little task. Just last evening after several failed attempts to insert a plug into its socket I howled with frustration and began to sob. Dennis gently put his arm around me and said, “Don’t worry, Shirley, we will get through this…if we don’t starve to death.”

We both burst out laughing. A good cry is fine to relieve stress, but a good laugh is the best medicine.

Copyright 2013 by Shirley Domer