morning thoughts

from Donald Murray's article in today's Boston Globe:
I once heard Grace Paley say, ''We write about what we don't know about what we know.'' Exactly. Writing isn't writing what we know but what we don't know we know until we write it. Writing is t hinking, exploration, discovery, and surprise.

I find his articles are usually a lovely essay to read, a short piece that often makes me think, or look at things differently.

In another article, a review of a show coming to the Coolidge Corner Theater t hat's all in Yiddish, there was mention of instant translation on a screen, dubbed "Yid-o-Matic." hmmmm....

The lake had mist rising from it this morning, making me think how easy it would be for this to make people more likely to believe in magic. Some thing about seeing it from the highway, though, kept it from going from beautiful landscape to magical this morning.

Hand! (the musical)

Well, no musical.

But things went pretty well at the hospital today. First, the doctor's appointment. Of course, he was running late (I could've taken the later bus after all). When I finally got in to see him (his assistant got my name right today, btw), he was really pleased with my progress: I actually got a "Wow!" out of him when he saw how much of a fist I could make, and the rest of the flexibility stuff (In fact, he told me I'm not the only one who can say "whoo-hoo!"). He checks in with the physical therapists, so I won't see him in person again for 3 weeks.

When asked, he said I could drive my car again, starting Monday (6 weeks after getting the pins), though I could drive around an empty parking lot over the weekend to see how it feels (where would I find one of those in Cambridge?). The second downside to driving myself to work (after the all-important lack of sociable company, of course!) would be less time for doing exercises...

I dashed home, assembled flat breads (I'd made the dough before the doctor appt.), put a za'atar one and a rosemary-and-sea-salt one in the oven on time bake, then back to the hospital for a therapy appointment. No whirlpools this time, wet or dry. Instead, she put a band around my bent finger, and I dipped in paraffin (look, the amazing candle-finger!) a bunch of times, then they wrapped it up to keep it warm as long as possible. After that, I got fitted for 2 finger splints that I'm to wear for some minutes a day that will encourage the 2 affected fingers to be more straight. Some exercises, then another ultrasound session. It's amazing how much difference 5 minutes of ultrasound makes. The scar is noticeably less indented :-).

And to end the session, she tested my hand strength, since I'm to start strength training. On both hands she measured my grip with the whole hand, how much force I could exert with just the thumb, the index and middle fingers together, and just the index finger (3 measurements each time, taking the average). My left hand has currently about 25% to 30% the strength of the right, which she thinks is relatively good. And now I have yellow Silly Putty-like stuff, and 4 different exercises to do with it, in addition to all the other flexibility exercises.... (Interestingly, they have other colors that have more resistance. I get to work my way up the rainbow, I suppose.)

And I just dropped the flat breads off at the therapy department. They came out well, so I hope people like them.

Mood: more accomplished than I'd thought