Middle Finger Blues (Day 257)

(photo credit: I love you with all my heart by Tim Hamilton on flickr.com.  https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/legalcode.)

The middle finger on my right hand hurts. It’s been hurting for several weeks now. Feels like it’s sprained. Too much repeated use caused strain caused a sprain, I surmise.

I try to forget about it, thinking it will heal over time, but I’ve come to realize that I use the middle finger on my right hand more than any other finger (except my right thumb and thumbs aren’t fingers, according to the Oxford English dictionary. They are digits.)

For years, my kids have teased me about how I use my middle finger to type texts and to press elevator buttons and to flick on and off light switches. What I never thought about until now is that I use my middle finger to eject the seat belt from its holder. I use my middle finger to press the buttons on the car radio. I use my middle finger along with my thumb to button and unbutton, and to zip and unzip, When I write, I hold my pen with my thumb, my index finger and my middle finger. Same when I hold a piece of silverware. I was taught to use only my index finger and thumb, but at an early age, it seems, I became dependent upon my middle finger to guide me through every activity in my day.

I’ve been a little low the past few weeks and I’m beginning to wonder if it isn’t because of the constant ache in the top part of my right middle finger. After awhile, even the little things manage to get to you.

When I complained about my finger to my husband, he said he knew why it hurt. Tell me, I said. So I don’t strain it again. He laughed because he definitely believes the discomfort is due to overuse, to strain.

According to my husband, when he’s around, I am constantly using the middle finger of my right hand. He says something I don’t like, and up the finger goes. Slowly, it drifts back down only to flip back up when my husband speaks again. This can happen fifteen or twenty times in one night. According to him.

Well, you how I responded to that critique.

I’m doomed. It’s time to accept that my middle finger probably is going to hurt for the rest of my life.



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