A couple of years ago, when I was having so much pain in my right wrist, I did everything I could think of to take pressure off it. I set up the end table next to the left side of the recliner (the old recliner, at that time), so that I could drink my morning coffee (and evening whatever) left-handed. I even moved the mouse to the left side of the computer (the old computer, that would be).

I’ve been perfectly content to use my left hand for these simple tasks all this time. Even though I’m very strongly right-handed, I’ve grown used to drinking and mousing left-handed. Over the months, my wrists have gradually grown about equal in strength, and the pain on the right side has been very slight. At times I’ve gone for weeks with little or no pain at all.

When I set up the new computer, I put the new mouse back on the right side. Part of this was convenience, because for a few days I was going back and forth between the two computers, and it was just easier not to have the two mice on the same side. Another part was just not wanting to bother going into the mouse software and telling it to do things backwards, because it no longer seemed necessary.

Really, there have been no ill effects from mousing with my right hand, but in the last few days I’ve had some excruciating twinges in my left wrist. So today I moved my drink table to the right side of the new recliner, and now I’m fully right-handed again. I keep reaching with the left, but I’ll get used to things being back the way the used to be.

In a way it’s too bad, because at times it was convenient to have my coffee on the left side, so that I could have all my remotes within easy reach of my left hand. It was nice to eat with my right hand and drink with my left, you know? On the computer, it’s a different story. It’s much easier to put copy that I’m typing from on the left side. For some reason it’s easier for me to see there, and now without the mouse in the way, I can do that again.

Ah, well. I always wanted to be ambidextrous, but it wasn’t meant to be. It’s one of those traits I would change about myself if I could, like the fact that I can’t sing a note and that I read too slowly. And I wouldn’t mind being a little taller. And younger and thinner, for that matter, but there are some things not worth wishing for. Better to save it for something realistic. I just can’t think of anything.

Anyway, the point is that every time I feel that pain in my wrist, I’m more determined not to go back to the doctor, because that’s exactly what I went to him for the first time, and the only thing he ever did about it was tell me not to worry about it and give me a soft splint that was way too big for my skinny wrists. And actually, telling me not to worry was the best thing he ever did for me, but now that I already know I shouldn’t worry, I can’t think of a good reason to go back. He’ll just tell me things I don’t want to hear, and things I don’t need to know. I have other places I can get that kind of information.