I sit down there with my friends in a panel trying to draft the constitution for our newly fashioned welfare group. After writing over ten pages I looked at them for a while and pause. Who can believe this hand at one factor in time was unable to move, all covered in splint and hung around my neck? Running via my thoughts are the experiences I had twelve years ago.
Well, on that bright morning, when we had just woken up, my mom started doing the household chores. Being a summer holiday, there used to be not much for the days rather than lazing round playing games in the neighborhood. I and my sister woke up and drank each two glasses of milk with some cereals as this has been the routine. After which we set out to find more interesting games for the day. On that very day, the most fantastic place for our game apparently was our elder brother’s bed. We dragged ourselves and got to the bed’s edge then jumped back to the floor, laughing and enjoying every moment of it. After a while, my mother got to the room as we were playing to vacuum the room and wipe the floor. As she was continuing with her work, my mother looked at us while we were on top of my brother’s bed, “What are you little ones doing? Watch out for yourselves not to fall in the process of playing”. We were so engaged in the game that whatever mum was saying we never gave it a thought. Mum left the room, continuing with her household works. On the other side, we continued with our interesting game. After a while, when I tried jumping off the bed, my feet clenched at the edge of the bed and I fell down on my left hand in the process of jumping. My mother dashed back into the room when she heard me crying. My wrist was hurting. It was a difficult moment in that there was no car and no one could take me to the hospital. My father had left for the day to see his parents.
My mother conducted a first aid, tied a piece of cloth to hand my hand on my neck. My mother firmly asserted, “No more games in the house. Sit still, we are going to the hospital.” I obeyed though the pain was becoming too much.
On the way to the hospital I kept asking myself, will my hand ever work again? Will I ever paint or draw? Will I use my left hand forever? While I was engulfed in such thoughts I passed out and the next thing I woke up to was my right hand covered in splint and hung around my neck. I felt like I was carrying some heavy load thus limiting my movement. The reality hit me that I could no longer play and had to cope with a new situation. I had to learn eating, writing and doing literally everything with my left hand. Every time I had a shower, I had to cover the splint with a nylon cloth to make it water proof. Our neighbor’s children teased me with the splint around my hand for a while.
After three months, my mother took back to the hospital for the splint to be taken out. I was both happy and afraid thinking that is was free at last and at the same time worrying if my hand will function normally again. It had healed and it was no longer an issue because my life came normalized. This incident mean a lot to me in that I remember when I missed the most vital organ of my body. After this I became self-conscious and learnt the good habits to keep my body healthy and fit.