I went to the doctor today to get the pin in my pinky out. Alas, the doctor told me my finger’s not quite healed enough for that yet. It frustrates me. My hand feels like there’s a lead weight in it. It’s stiff in the mornings, and sometimes for hours later, exercises or not. It feels like my pinky is dragging behind the other fingers. I can’t quite make a fist, and my grip in that hand is pretty weak. I don’t trust myself to hold anything with real weight in that hand, as I’ll drop it.
I feel depressed. I can’t do my job because of this. I keep feeling that this is my own fault. If I had done something else–anything else–I wouldn’t be here with a deformed hand that may as well be encased in cement for all the use it has. I was just walking to work that day–mentally aligning my day in my head as I went. I didn’t pay attention. I wasn’t watching. Because I wasn’t, I’m sitting here with a worthless hand.
It’s very hard to get up in the morning to go to work–the place where I’m not pulling my weight and being nothing but a drain. I wish I could stay in bed forever. I’d probably be of more use at home. It’s very hard to go to work and put on the mask, to pretend that everything is okay and I’m just fine. I don’t feel fine at all, and every day is a struggle.