Being One-Handed

Being One Handed

I must confess, I sometimes really love it when people take a moment to realise, I’m ONE-HANDED. Over Christmas I was at a small family gathering, which is to say, they have not spent much time around me since my disability/or disabilities.

We were doing a BBQ dinner and cutlery was scares. I confess, the knife is lost on me these days, I asked my cousin to my left to hold the skewer while I used my fork to pull the meat off the skewer. I tried, after a moment, she offered to do both. On my left, my younger sister reached over with her knife and fork to cut up a snag on my plate.

SNAG! Not just a Sensitive New Age GUY! But another name for a sausage.

A great Aussie line is “a BBQ isn’t a BBQ without a sausage!” and when my cousin came back sit down, cutlery was in very short supply. I offered my knife, still clean and untouched. I had to insist, holding my fork in my right hand and suggesting she had a few seconds to work out as to why I didn’t need the knife.

I explained who had helped me and how. When they got it, they got it pretty quickly and I gave them a smile as if to express, ‘It is what it is’. What can I do? Which made it ok that they hadn’t realised these are the simple things.

It has been strange spending time with family who in the last fifteen years haven’t been around me to know all the day to day things about my disabilities.

I know, despite the multi-layered name of my blog I haven’t covered it much. Mostly because, I’m one-handed and thankfully naturally right-handed, so I’ve just gotten on with stuff.

Often, even immediate family I need to remind them of things I just don’t do and this makes me pretty fucking grumpy.

Who thought I’d wrap this blog post up without uttering a swear word?
Not I!

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