Tag Archives: disability

Ode to my Left Hand

My life has got quite tricky.
I’ve just one arm to use.
The other is quite useless.
Asked, ‘Can you . . .   ?’ I refuse!

I’m typing with one finger.
Four others are on strike.
They’ve come out in sympathy,
With the five I’ve on my right.

There are so many things, I find,
It’s difficult to do.
I can’t zip, peel spuds or style my hair.
No biggy there, it’s true.

My dresser/sous chef has stepped in
And I can wear a hat,
Cause he won’t learn hairdressing,
And I can tell you that . . .

It’s hard to clap one-handed,
Or tie a knot or bow,
Or spread on some hand lotion
Or skip rope, don’t you know.

I cannot put my watch on
My left arm any more.
I cannot put it on my right,
Because it is too sore.

To brush my teeth is difficult.
Two hands are a must,
To squeeze the tube and paste the brush,
Is really quite a fuss.

I’ve been practicing you see.
My right hand is redundant.
My left hand has come up trumps,
Though it was not incumbent.

My left hand is first team now,
My right is second squad
It sits around and whines a lot,
And refuses to applaud.

I shall be ambidextrous
When all of this is through
My left hand is quite nimble now
My right hand says ‘thank you!’

I’m feeling slightly better now,
Than when I wrote this ditty.
I am no longer shouting ‘OW!’
Like when I was feeling . . . . . . . . lousy!

There’s an upside to being frail.
I’m waited on hand and feet.
It’s like living in a fairytale.
This Princess says, ‘That’s sweet!’

Right Arm Blues

It’s often said
Without a shred
Of sincerity
Or care,

We don’t appreciate
Til it’s too late
Our youth or job
Or hair.

So in my case
I must make haste
To write and post
And “chat.”

For soon in May
I have to say
It will happen
That . . .

I’m going to lose
The right to use
My right arm
Altogether.

To write a post
I could boast
Would be an
Endeavor.

I will read lots
And “like” your plots
While I am in
Plaster.

What’s that you ask?
A plaster cast!
Plaster! To help heal
Faster.

My right wrist
Has come adrift
And needs a
Little op.

‘Cause if I don’t
My right wrist won’t
Last long. It will
Just pop!

I’ve writ my last
Before my cast.
I’ll read and rest
In fetters.

And then when I’m
Fit and sublime
I’ll tell you
“I’m all better!”

Plaster cast on forearm/wrist/hand. Picture ta...
Oh nooo! I said my right arm! (Photo credit: Wikipedia)