My hand disappeared a week ago. I was rolling out a sheet of cookie dough for the kids. They come home around three and I like to have something warm baking for them. It makes me feel more useful and it's good that kids end their day with something sweet.
I was rolling the dough. Chocolate chip, I think it was. And my left hand just wasn't there anymore. The space where it was before was empty now. I didn't scream or cry. I'd gotten used to missing things. I figured this would be the same.
I had another hand anyway. I used that one more often. It would have to work harder now, to compensate. It would have been fine. I could get along. I always did.
Except. Well yesterday my other hand disappeared. So now I'm left with no hands. I can't button my shirt or put socks on the kids in the morning. I can't cook breakfast and lunch and dinner. I can't clean while my husband and children are gone and then clean again once they've gone to bed.
I feel odd now. I just sit on the couch and watch whatever is on tv. I think maybe my hands might come back soon. I'm waiting for them.