Be a social knitter
Finally, I have finished being probed for yet another year. No, I was not captured by aliens. Worse I am a female with generation upon generation of cancer victims and survivors. We all know how important it is to have a mamogram. This does not stop it from sucking, however. Okay, I am a wimp I will freely admit this. A mamogram is only the beginning of this yearly adventure. Far more delights are to be had. I will not go into it here. It's enough to say that I am done.
Anyway, while I was at the Doctor's I mentioned my wrists to her: my wrists have been feeling numb lately. She asked me how often I knit? I said often over eight hours a day. Well, her response, "That's was just silly." She has limited me to four hours a day. No more than four hours a day. I began to panic. This is my bread and butter. More than that it is what I do to unwind. Take away my ability to walk or breath on my own but for Pete's sake let me have my knitting needles. Sound familiar? I know. I know. I sound like a heavy smoker or an alcoholic. I can just see the ads now. "Are you being effected by someone's heavy knitting. Don't let this happen to you. Learn to knit socially."
Trouble is that knitting is viewed as a positive thing. Hubby loves it when I knit for the office baby arrivals. He has even started asking me, "So and so has just had a baby were is there sweater, uh" In fact, he has taken on the responsibility of finding events and people for which to knit. What a pusher?
So, four hours, my life literally pasted before my eyes. I can say good-bye to my knitwear designer career, I thought. The Doctor sensing my mood said, "You're young surely there is something else besides knitting that you want to do with your life?" "Write" was my response. I wonder if you have to use your wrists for that?
With the dawn comes clarity. She said, "No more than four hours." She did not say that I have to sell all my knitting supplies and never touch another knitting needle. It will take careful planning and care. For example, no more bulk knitting. Meaning, focusing on my writing and design. Limiting the places which carry my hand knits to Artcraft on Salt Spring Island. Also caring more for my wrists.
There are things I can do. Not all is lost. Keep a stiff upper lip, as my Dad would say.
Anyway, while I was at the Doctor's I mentioned my wrists to her: my wrists have been feeling numb lately. She asked me how often I knit? I said often over eight hours a day. Well, her response, "That's was just silly." She has limited me to four hours a day. No more than four hours a day. I began to panic. This is my bread and butter. More than that it is what I do to unwind. Take away my ability to walk or breath on my own but for Pete's sake let me have my knitting needles. Sound familiar? I know. I know. I sound like a heavy smoker or an alcoholic. I can just see the ads now. "Are you being effected by someone's heavy knitting. Don't let this happen to you. Learn to knit socially."
Trouble is that knitting is viewed as a positive thing. Hubby loves it when I knit for the office baby arrivals. He has even started asking me, "So and so has just had a baby were is there sweater, uh" In fact, he has taken on the responsibility of finding events and people for which to knit. What a pusher?
So, four hours, my life literally pasted before my eyes. I can say good-bye to my knitwear designer career, I thought. The Doctor sensing my mood said, "You're young surely there is something else besides knitting that you want to do with your life?" "Write" was my response. I wonder if you have to use your wrists for that?
With the dawn comes clarity. She said, "No more than four hours." She did not say that I have to sell all my knitting supplies and never touch another knitting needle. It will take careful planning and care. For example, no more bulk knitting. Meaning, focusing on my writing and design. Limiting the places which carry my hand knits to Artcraft on Salt Spring Island. Also caring more for my wrists.
There are things I can do. Not all is lost. Keep a stiff upper lip, as my Dad would say.
posted by Author Leanne Dyck at 8:37 AM
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