Little bit of DQ tonight. No, not the Blizzardy DQ, the other one.
We had steak tonight. As has become the norm, John cut my meat for me before it was served. I picked up my fork with my left hand, also normal. What wasn't normal was how the fork slipped, or how my hand felt--fat, weak, a little painful.
To say truth, this has been creeping up, slowly but surely. My fingers are becoming more swollen and there are fewer utensils that fit comfortably. I scoop more than I spear. Occasions like tonight, the spearing demands my claw-fist hold the fork nearer the tines.
What will I do when I can't hold my silverware anymore? Sigh. That question was, as we all know, totally rhetorical.
The thought of decreasing independence makes me sad.
16 hours ago