I hate it when that happens, Vol. CCCDXXIV

I seem to have thoroughly trashed my right wrist. It hurt, a little, for a long time. I ignored it. Now it hurts, a lot. Lugging the 40 lb. bookbag, lifting the 50 lb. portfolio, grabbing textbooks and huge drawing tablets, all added to the damage. Now it hurts to adjust the fan in my car. So I got a nice brace for it ($11.99 at Raley's), and some ibuprofen. This is good. Already it feels better, now that I am not re-injuring it daily. And, some things are good about this. As much as it is a hassle, I am learning to use my left hand for a lot of things, like opening doors and carrying heavy stuff. I hear that is very good for the brain (we drew a gesture drawing with our opposite hand recently, and I could not tell it from the others I did that day). And instead of pushing myself up off the couch with my hands, I am using the old thigh muscles, and I am sure that they are getting nice and tight because of it. Mostly I just have to remember not to push with it too much. I even drive better, because abrupt movement is what sends searing pain around my wrist and down my hand. Never thought there would be a moment when I pined for an automatic transmission, but here it is. Not missing any school, or letting it interfere with drawing or painting, though. So how bad could it be, anyway. Nuisance, this getting old is.