I have always considered myself a fairly competent human being. I can cook a meal without setting the kitchen on fire, dress myself without assistance, and maintain basic hygiene—at least, that’s what I thought before I had carpal tunnel surgery. What I failed to realise is that once you take away the use of one hand, the world becomes a far more complicated place.
If you, like me, are about to embark on this adventure, let me share some hard-earned wisdom. The key to surviving two weeks of being one-handed is preparation. Think of it like packing for a trip to an island where zips, buttons, and running water are your mortal enemies.
Step One: Accept That You Will Be Useless
You may think, “It’s just one hand! I have another one!” Oh, sweet summer child. The second you try to spread butter on toast, put toothpaste on your toothbrush, or open a jar of anything, you will realise that two hands were never a luxury, but a necessity. You will also discover that your dominant hand was in charge of almost everything. Your non-dominant hand is essentially an extra, a background actor in the grand performance of your life, and now you expect it to take the lead. Spoiler alert: it won’t.
Step Two: The No-Fastenings Fashion Statement
If your wardrobe is full of fiddly fastenings, now is the time to rethink your life choices. Jeans with buttons? Forget them. Anything with a back zipper? Might as well donate it now. I mean I am not a jeans person anyway but I did make sure I dug out dresses and channeled “dressing like a toddler”. The goal is to be able to dress yourself without breaking into a sweat or requiring a YouTube tutorial on how to operate a zip with your teeth. You will also have to accept that if you wear a bra you WILL need help. There is no getting around that and the sooner you accept that the better.
Step Three: The Art of Staying Dry Without Using Water
Your newly operated hand must not get wet. This means showering turns into a logistical nightmare. Sure, you could attempt to fashion a plastic bag and some duct tape into a makeshift waterproof cast cover, but if you don’t want to spend your post-op days Googling “how to get soggy bandages dry,” invest in proper waterproof protection. I did and it is the best thing I have spent £11 on recently, though it is so tight it feels like a tourniquet around my upper arm but it gets the job done.
However, even with the best preparation, showers will feel like extreme sports. Washing your hair one-handed is an experience no one should have to endure. Dry shampoo will become your new best friend. Or make use of the small bottles you have spent years nicking from hotels, they are the heaviest thing you can lift so make the most of them. As for the rest of your body, wet wipes are the answer (you can get supersize ones rather than tiny baby bum sized ones). Stock up on enough to feel like you’re camping in your own home. And have them beside every sink or basin.
Step Four: The One-Handed Diet
You probably don’t think much about how much effort goes into eating until you attempt to cut up your food with one hand. Suddenly, every meal feels like a cruel joke. Anything requiring two hands to eat or prepare is off the menu. Steak? Impossible. Bread that requires slicing? Dream on. Forget oranges entirely.
Stock up on easy-to-eat foods: pre-sliced bread, yoghurts, bananas, and anything you can open without using scissors or brute force. If you have a kind friend or family member who can pre-cut meals for you, now is the time to cash in on any favours they owe you.
Step Five: Ask For Help (And Accept That You Will Be Mocked)
People will be more than willing to help you, but they will also find your struggles hilarious. Prepare for your loved ones to watch as you try and fail to do simple tasks, all while offering helpful commentary such as, “Wow, I didn’t realise how much you relied on that hand.” Thank you, Susan, very insightful.
If you have kids, they will oscillate between being incredibly helpful and taking full advantage of your situation. Expect to hear things like, “Mum, can we have ice cream for breakfast? You can’t scoop it, so we’ll just eat straight from the tub.”
Also you will realise you married a keeper when you ask them to scratch your armpit and they do it without hesitation on day two.
Step Six: Entertain Yourself (Because Time Will Crawl)
You’d think being one-handed wouldn’t affect your ability to scroll mindlessly on your phone, but you would be wrong. Typing one-handed is slow, infuriating, and full of typos. Writing anything longer than a text becomes a test of patience. Reading books is an option, but only if they are light enough to be held in one hand, so forget anything over 500 pages.
If you plan on watching TV, pre-load your streaming service because navigating menus one-handed is tedious. And don’t even think about gaming unless you enjoy losing spectacularly.
Step Seven: Get Ahead with an Auto Email Footer
Unless you plan on avoiding emails for two weeks (tempting, but unlikely), do yourself a favour and set up an automatic email footer before surgery. Something along the lines of:
“Please excuse any typos—I am currently operating with one hand due to carpal tunnel surgery. This also means my response time is slower, so bear with me. If all else fails, please assume that any spelling errors were made with great enthusiasm and very little control.”
This way, you won’t have to keep explaining why your emails read like they were typed by a toddler mashing a keyboard.
Step Eight: Celebrate The Small Victories
In your one-handed existence, every small success will feel like an Olympic achievement. Managed to put toothpaste on your brush without getting it all over yourself? Victory. Opened a jar without launching it across the room? You are a champion. Dressed yourself in something that doesn’t look like you’ve given up on life? Truly impressive.
Eventually, your hand will heal, and normal service will resume. You’ll regain the ability to zip up a jacket, wash both hands properly, and cut your own food without assistance. And when that happens, you’ll have a newfound appreciation for the miracle that is two fully functional hands.
Until then, embrace the chaos, prepare for a few weeks of creative problem-solving, and remember: wet wipes are your friend, and buttons are the enemy.