It's The Little Things

If you find any errors in this essay, don't blame me for being a poor typist. Blame the cat food company. Since I am staying at home with Lester through this early part of his recuperation from heart surgery, other family members are doing the grocery shopping for me. Our poor cats have been somewhat neglected through this period of changing schedules and long absences, so I wanted to be sure they got fed well.

My grocery shopper brought home a brand of cat food that I don't usually use. It had the lift-off lid from the steel can. The tab pulls off nicely until the lid gets halfway off the can. Then it stops unless you give it a very vigorous yank. I gave that yank and the lid came up in a hurry and sliced the end of my third finger. The cat's food was flavored with blood but she didn't seem to mind. However I had to run inside to get a paper towel to wrap around my finger until I could get to the box of Band-Aids.

The first application of the bandages didn't stop the flow of blood, so I had to try again, finally having two Band-Aids doing the job over the one cut. That is still the situation as I am writing this.

Naturally it doesn't feel good to press that finger on the keys so I am using a modified hunt and peck method to get this written.

It seems silly to be pre-occupied with a half-inch slice on my finger when Lester is healing from a foot long slice down the middle of his chest. But nobody is waiting on me hand and foot while my finger heals. I still have to fix meals, clean house, do laundry, wash dishes (or at least load the dishwasher) and make beds even if my finger hurts at the slightest touch.

It's amazing how many actions call for the use of the third finger on the left hand. I am right-handed so you would think that this little injury wouldn't slow me down a bit. But I am used to doing many things with both hands, and of course, typing is one of those things. So I am constantly being reminded by my finger that it hurts when it touches anything.

I will heal much quicker than Lester's chest will, and I don't even need anyone to assist me in my daily personal routine, and I am not in any physical danger. But it does hurt.

A few minutes ago Marilyn came to me with something in her eye. She knew her great-grandfather was needing much attention but her eye was hurting. I tried to help her remove the offender and was able to get her relief. It didn't matter that Granddaddy was recovering from serious surgery. Her eye hurt right then.

The cats were not aware that their need had caused me this painful finger, and probably wouldn't have cared if they had known, but they seem to think they need to be fed again today in spite of all our troubles in the house.

Even the hummingbird has made it known to me that the feeder needs to be replenished. All the little things keep calling for action in spite of the emphasis on one big concern. Life goes on even when we are trying to step aside for awhile.

Right now I need to go up to get the mail. I know there will be many get-well cards that Lester has enjoyed getting so much. I know they will all be for him.