out came the sun and dried up all the rain
2004-03-01 - 9:59 p.m.

I went to get my hand splints made today and we went to the wrong office. Mom got confused and thought the prescription was for one place when really it was another, and so on and so on. We zipped over a few streets and found our destination - an interestingly shaped building which used to be an assisted living home. We were the only ones in the waiting room and I never did care for The Little Mermaid, so I turned my back to the tv and started filling out the medical papers. The nurse-secretary woman was watching my every move and commented as if I’ve known her for years. Then she did the two things that I pretty much detest: 1. call me Miss Amy like I’m a daycare teacher and 2. told me to “be good” as we were leaving.

Here’s a question for you, Why does a physical handicap allow you to talk down to me? Oh, that’s right, it doesn’t!

Back to the hand splints…

The man came in and played around with my hands a little then he brought out a soft tape measure and determined that my right hand is slightly larger than my left, but that’s normal since I am right handed. I was looking at his large warm hands under mine and I noticed they looked similar to mine. Similar in that they were extended in an unusual position and when he moved the tape measure from hand to hand he used his palms more than he did his fingers. He mentioned that he had to wear splints like these after he had hand surgery and then later I said something about the leg braces I had made a few years back and he said he had a new pair of leg braces made about every year.

”Every year?” I asked. “Do you grow or something?”
”No” he said, “I break them.”

I felt comfortable around him enough to ask his name; Darrel. And I felt that he wouldn’t mind if I asked him the reason for his obvious muscle weakness since he did mention his hand surgery and leg braces, and I thought about it, but then I had to remind myself that I’m still kind of sensitive to the question of “What happened??” and I didn’t want to seem the least bit insensitive. After all, I should be more understanding about these kinds of things. But come to find out, Darrel has a form of muscular dystrophy called CMT (char cot marie tooth).

Interesting? Yes, seeing as I had been misdiagnosed with CMT when I was 12 and for five years believed so. It’s a small world after all, no?