An Occupational Therapist's Mistake

In physical therapy they taught me to use my not-so-great body parts as much as I could, but that’s not so easy to do, when it’s so much quicker, and easier, to use the parts that were not affected. Once I was upright, again, and walking, it was with a loft strand cane because my right side was not capable of using a walker. My physical therapist would remind me to step up/down, from the curb/step and lead with my bad left foot! 

Is he crazy? I thought. It doesn’t work! 

But in occupational therapy, it was another story. Soon after I came out of the coma, an OT stuck a pencil in my left hand (I was right handed,) and said: This is how you’ll have to write from now on. I took the pencil, and began to write. 

Sweet Jesus! That looks like crap! This hand only knows how to help!

That's what I'd say now, but then I just followed their directions. I was an easy patient; no agitation, or aggression here! 

But after I got home, things were different. Family friends were visiting from Canada, and I was writing a sloppy, almost indiscernible list. Their young son asked me why I was writing left-handed. I told him the truth. I wasn’t sure. 

Just try with your right hand! He said, I bet you can!

I tried, and haven’t written with my left hand since that day.