Tori May

I injured my wrist, forcing me to adapt for all of summer and into the first week of classes.

This summer, I went white water rafting in North Carolina. Within the first minute, the guy next to me fell out with a splash. His foot hit my wrist in the battle to stay in the raft. It hurt badly. Death gripping the paddle with my right hand and gingerly holding it with my left, I shivered my way down the fifty-degree river for the next three hours with an ever-swelling wrist. Turns out, I had a deep bone bruise with tendonitis and needed a brace for the next six weeks.

So, I wore a black wrist brace on my left hand for all of July and half of August. This may seem like good timing with school being out, but it had its downfalls. I work at the front desk of a park and recreation building, where I set up events and answer questions. Only having one hand was a problem. On top of that, I write with my left hand. Safe to say, I texted my boss questions rather than writing it. In the end, I persevered and adapted. On the bright side, I can now successfully open folding tables and stack chairs one-handed.

I also moved into Russell Hall with the brace on. My poor parents had to do the heavy lifting, as I could not carry things with both hands. I was basically just a director for my belongings. Safe to say, my parents were happy to leave that night to go home and sleep.

Now, my wrist is healed and no longer needs the brace. I will happily let it sit in the corner of a drawer collecting dust, and think about the difficulties it caused.