My hands are killing me. I’ve been typing and typing for days upon end and now my hands are both wrapped up in these sad little braces which are the equivalent of an 80 year old in orthopedic shoes. I get to play hunt and peck on my keyboard because my finger don’t work so well while wrapped up. People think I’ve been involved in a freaking car accident or something.
Then there are the fun folks who want to pull me aside and quietly ask if I’m being abused by my non-existent significant other. If I were truly evil I’d point a finger at the ever-lovable Stealth Dater Boy. Alas, I’m far too honest for that. Dammit.
Why do my hands hurt so much? Well, I’ve had reoccuring cysts in both wrists for years. They come and go and I’ve had every procedure known to man on them and the basic advice from the medical intelligential is to take it easy. Um, these are my wrists people! Am I supposed to go through life with my hands folded in my lap? Please. Let’s not even get into the logistical issues of wiping my ass while “taking it easy.” So, I get to be in pain, espicially during a flare up when these suckers get the size of ping-pong balls on my wrists.
Alrighty, I’m done. Whine over.
