Paper Cuts and Cracked Fingers

I was sure I was home free. My hands survived a cold long dreary winter without the usual visitation by dry cracked skin on my thumbs. I was battling a paper cut, you know, the kind of quick cut that happens when you are rifling thru papers and in an instant the sharp pain message screams up the neural pathways into your brain and blood starts to color the edges of whatever you are working on. I haven’t decided what location for these thin slices of pain is worse, on the knuckle or in the web of skin between the thumb and forefinger. Paper, not the home made crafty type of paper made from soaking and pressing wood chip pulp thru your blender and on to a screen to dry. No, this is letter size white 20 lb. copy paper that becomes the innocent enough weapon. Paper, which we were assured computers would do away with. A paperless society they promised us. Now, day in and day out, my hands handle more 20 lb. copy paper than ever. Each morning, a new set gets imprinted with information transferred from the electronic record. Copy, read, fax, paper clip. The cycle gets repeated till the whole pile lays to rest in the locked shredder bin. It’s spring. I can deal with a paper cut. I get past the nervous worry that the germs inhabiting my work space will somehow get past my immune system and cause an infection. We hit a cold snap, and it happens. The skin on my thumb cracks open. I am grateful that these cracks don’t bleed. But, they hurt like the dickens. The pain kind of reminds me of when I jab myself with a sewing needle. Only this pain doesn’t go away. A coworker suggests dousing the crack with vitamin e and wrapping the thumb a band aid secured with duct tape. We cleanse our hands so often that a humble band aid can’t stand up to the pressure. And then there is that worry about the germs and my over worked immune system. I opt for the vitamin e and non latex gloves when I am in patient areas. The paper cut is pretty much healed up. The crack, now that’s another story. It will be with me for a few weeks. I say prayers of thanksgiving to my immune system. I try to use some of that pile of paper over again, however as the information is of a confidential nature, my desire to reuse it is hampered by the content. And the pain? I am reminded that I am alive when I feel the pain in my thumb. Even though some days it really hurts, I know, pain is one aspect of having a human body that can’t be avoided.