I am currently in the process of breaking up with my right hand.
A few years ago, precisely six years ago, I lost function in my hands and fingers. I was an undergraduate at the time, a Literature major, and I was in desperate need of functional hands. How else would I write long essays? Our exams consisted of filling up empty pages with as much intellectual jargon as you could possibly manage. Of course there was also the Multiple Choice component, but that was manageable; it’s really easy to form a circle around a letter, even kindergarteners can do that. Messy circles, but hey, it’s no art class. I barely managed to take my exams, and I requested more time to write. My handwriting was barely readable – but then again, it hardly ever is. It was simply more deformed. Fortunately, my professors were understanding and did not acknowledge the sudden dysfunction that arose. I passed, with a flying (and flawed) blue pen in my hand.
Eventually, I regained function. Things went back to normal. Until a few days ago, when I realized my right hand had re-developed a tremor. Wonderful. Not only does it come at the most inappropriate time, but also, it is one of those tremors that medical terminology labels “Intention Tremor.” Simply put, this type of tremor is at its worst only when you want to use your hand; i.e. voluntary movement. When at rest, it is functional and as good as new. Ironic, no?
I depend on my right hand for nearly everything. My left is nearly non-existent. So, as always, I like to have a back-up plan.
I am currently in the process of training my left hand to become my right. Apparently, this can be done. I looked up the term, because as always, there is a word, which doesn’t adequately describe the complexity of this sudden dramatic intrusion. But enough whining. Here it is:
Ambidextrous. adj