I have taken my hands and feet for granted.
What would I do without their full capacity to function?
One night, while sleeping in the guestroom,
No, my husband and I did not have a fight.
I knew I would snore.
“Don’t wake him,” I told myself.
“Sleep in the guestroom.”
Getting up in the middle of the night
to relieve myself, I forgot where I was.
With arms outstretched, I walked into
the guestroom wall dislocating my finger.
Off to the hospital we went.
So much for a good night’s sleep.
Splint on the index finger,
right hand of course,
Mobility of hand disrupted.
Years later, while on a Galapagos Islands’ tour
aboard an 88-foot boat tossed about by twelve-foot waves,
one night I skidded while trying to get to the bathroom.
I broke my baby toe. OUCH!
Flip flops from then on.
No more hiking for me. However, snorkeling a must.
Paine too great to slip a flipper over
the broken toe allowing one flipper, not two.
Dropping into the water, fine
Getting out painful!
The following weeks confined to flip flops.
A dislocated index finger and broken baby toe,
both very painful, remind me to honor my appendages.
When injured, activity levels reset from fast to slow.
My hands and feet take on new awe.
Moral of this story,
“Be careful when going to the bathroom at night!”
Well-writ, MPS, though darkness is not always the problem. My Beloved Sandra just got out of a cast for a broken and dislocated pinky finger, dislocated and broken by the frame of her closet door in broad, sober, wide-wake daylight.
Thanks for sharing.