THE PARTY

Unfortunately my right hand, since surgery on January 31st, has been a central issue in my life, and often mentioned on this blog.  Most likely we all take our hands for granted, but were we to think about it, we would all be so grateful for them, their flexibility, their ceaseless labor, their loving touches, their creativity, their giving and their receiving.  I have learned that I can't take my hands for granted.  With the 'failure' of surgery to correct the problems brought about by Dupuytrans Contracture, actually making the problems far worse, I must say that I have, at times, come to detest my hand, to despise thinking about it all the time, and to feel depressed at its loss of normal function.  I have counted my blessings, and frequently realize that I could be so worse off, still it does not change the fact that my hand, in most ways, is no longer 'my hand'.  (As an aside, but a very related one, I was born with in-turning little fingers, really in-turning little fingers.  As a child I remember it bothering me some, but they did not impede my life, and I soon grew used to them, despite the 'ugly' nature of their being.  So adding the contractures to already not so pretty hands, was a bit of a blow. )

 

After surgery I was in Occupational Therapy for three months, wonderful therapists who helped me a great deal, and gave me hope.  Still, I am stalled in recovery, or at least feel that way.  Becoming disgusted with being down about this hand all the time, I decided that a Hand Party might be of some help.

This was to be a party of celebration for my hand, and to help me come to love this 'new' part of me.  I knew my grandgirls, Iris and Elsa, who spend much time gently petting and kissing my hand, would be so up for such a venture.

Invitations, and on the inside it reads 'Nonna's hand'.  On the back it reads, 'Fancy dress required'.  As I predicted, upon receiving these invitations and reading them, the response was, 'Oh, Nonnie' in their lilting but so pleased voice. 

On the morning of the party, we were, indeed, all dressed up. 

I made a cake in the shape of my hand, not realizing how not so pretty it was going to look with the crooked pinkie.  Unfortunately I took this photo before I placed a Wild Geranium flower on each finger tip, it looked quite a bit more lovely then.

In keeping with the theme, and knowing my girls love for my homemade bread, I rolled out some bread dough and using a hand cookie cutter, cut several pieces out and let them rise.

I also made one large hand-shaped loaf, using cherry tomatoes for finger nails...alongside are cheese slices cut with the cookie cutter.

...the tiny baked breads each hand holding a primrose...

As a party activity, I bought face paints and let the girls decorate my hands as well as their own.  This proved to be much fun.

My hands, as you can see the right hand (on the left) has a pinkie that is totally contracted, and the middle finger is contracted at about 45%.  Comparatively speaking, my left hand looks lovely.

Iris' hands

Elsa's hands

The girls loved the tiny bread hands, and while I was getting drinks in the kitchen they poked holes in the bread bottoms, stuck their fingers in and danced them around with much glee.
 

They sang a version of 'Happy Hands to you', kissed my hands endlessly, expressed their love for me and my hands and made this celebration a triumph.  

Do I love my hand?  I am learning to love my hand, and am committed to make it work for me without complaint.  I think that this is the hand that I will now have the rest of my life, and pray that contractures do not occur in any other fingers.  I am blessed that I can still do pretty much all that I have ever done, I ride my bike daily, bake bread frequently, cook elaborate meals, harvest, plant and garden endlessly, write, drive, sew, and know how blessed I really am.