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i have a cyst. on my wrist. a ganglion cyst, in fact. because there are other types of cysts. like ovarian cysts (which are not usually on the wrist), and sebaceous cysts (which are also not on the wrist, as they are in the small glands of the skin), and pancreatic cysts (again...).
and it has been hurting.
and because i have recently purchased a pack of yoga sessions, i wanted to do something about it so that i could do yoga without Agonizing Pain in my wrist.
so i went to the doctor today to have someone look at it. and suddenly, before i even knew what was happening, we (because i agreed to it) were poking holes in my cystic pocket (a claire-style nursing term) and filling it full of steroids.
and now it hurts.
which brings us to the real story.
tonight, after all the steroids, i was eating pasta with some chicken, which needed to be cut. my wrist was feeling a little sensitive and sad, and hurt to move. so i was wondering if i could maybe do it all with my left hand so i could baby my cystic hand. and it reminded me of when i was in denmark learning table manners.
neils (my denmark tour guide, and distant family) was telling me that he could spot an america from 10 miles away because they cut their food right handed, and then they waste a lot of time and energy switching the fork to their right hand to eat their food. this is also not appropriate table manners. so i asked him what americans should be doing. he told me that you hold the knife in the right hand and the fork in the left, and you just always keep them in their separate hands. no switching. it's hard, but your left hand will get used to it. i was almost convinced, but not quite. so i asked him "what about when you have pasta? no cutting, and it is too technical for your left hand to handle!"
i thought i cracked him. but no.
his reply: "i just don't eat pasta."
this is neils and mereta.
