My Left Hand

My Left – A Photo Diary

  

July 1, 2025

June 26, 2025

 
May 19, 2025

February 24, 2025  


 

February 11, 2025

October 3, 2024

 

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One day at a time

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I'm a journalist by profession and training. Since my high school days, it's been part of my nature to document, document, document. Whatever I learn and/or experience, I also want to share if it can help someone else. S o here we are. Me and Dup. That's what I've decided to name this new addition to my life. Dup's short for Dupuytren's disease. But you already know if you're reading this. If we ever meet up, don't be surprised if I show you my left hand. It's not because I want pity or even special attention. It's because I want to make you aware of this crazy disease. Not many know about it. I sure didn't. But turns out there's a lot of us out there. I've read different statistics, but roughly 8.2 percent of people around the world suffer from this debilitating but benign condition. It's no fun. And it's worse for some than for others. That's the thing — Dupuytren's affects everyone differently. So far, t...
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Adapt and go on

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Loss. Everyone with Dupuytren's deals with it. For me, I can't clap any more. Hurts if I do. So I fake clap instead. And I'm not the only one. Someone told me that she does, too.  "Or I use my right hand to slap on my leg or a chair/table next to me," she posted. Someone can't open water bottles any more. I'm getting there. On Thanksgiving Day, I had to ask my son to open a can of corn with a can opener. Couldn't do it myself.  Someone can't high five his grandson any more. Because his grandson likes to high five as hard as he can.  Handshaking is also a challenge for some with the disease. Especially if the hand shaker squeezes too hard. So some fist bump instead of shaking hands.  So, yes, we're all learning to adapt to get on with life and co-exist with Dup.   
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Blessed me

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That's me and James yesterday. And Dup. He's always with me now. You just can't see him. He was helping to take that photo. We were all at the Mays Cancer Center in San Antonio yesterday for my CT scan. I mean, our CT scan. At one point in the process of prepping, everyone gathered around me where I lay on a table.  There's Dr. John Yassa, Dr. Chul Ha and CT scan techs Nickie and Louis. That's when my emotions kicked in.  I'm so blessed to have these people taking care of me, I thought as a tear slid out of my eye and onto the bridge of my nose.  James leaned over me. "You ok?"  "I'm just so grateful for everyone helping me," I murmured. It's been a journey since I was first diagnosed with Dupuytren's disease. In September, I was discouraged when an orthopedic surgeon told me that the only option – because it's not curable – was surgery. He told me to come back in six months, and he'd check my hand again. In the meantime...
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