“Is it your right arm?!”, I ask nervously. “No, it’s my left”, Kathy replies. We both laugh instantaneously. “We’re always so relieved it’s not my right arm that I swing into the table, scald with hot water, almost cut taking a knife out of the dishwasher. I think I could slice my hand off at the wrist and we’d be relieved, as long as it was my left and not my right!”
We laughed and laughed at that…..because it is so true! Kathy has lymphedema in her right arm. We are so protective of it and yet it still gets infected and blows up like a balloon.
My wish for her is to not worry about either side – to be able swing her arms freely and not worry if she has a cut on her right thumb that could turn into an infection.
I wish I could take away this burden. Since I can’t I guess we’ll just go on being grateful that it’s the left and not the right.