Cack Handed

 Many years ago now, a doctor who was neurologically assessing my patient paused and watched me draw up some medication into a syringe. 

Because I am clumsy I always draw up meds in a certain way which may look conspicuous to those clinical staff that do it day in and day out. 

The way I do it minimises the chance of me dropping the glass vial but does look somewhat ham fisted to others. The doctor asked me if I had a tendency to drop things.

I was intrigued and told him that I often dropped items at work and when cooking 

“ Do you know a millisecond before you drop something that you are going to drop it?” he asked and that was a lightbulb moment. For this strange phenomenon has happened for all of my life.

When I was a child I was called cackhanded

As a teen, I was just gauche and awkward. 

I cannot dance, I am often awkward in my own skin and I fall over when others don’t.

My fine coordination can be lacking and at choir when Jamie feels he wants to push his chorus to some movement to accompany the singing, it is universally amusing that I cannot do both

I am, also well know for food stains down my t shirts

“I think you have a mild form of motor Dyspraxia” the doctor told me and I felt so much better after decades of being called clumsy and by association a bit dim .

I repaired the back door handle today. It was fiddly, especially as  there was a tiny Allen key to negotiate, one   which I must have dropped a hundred times. But after an absolute age I had drilled new holes, matched up the handles with the spindle and got the handle working well.

I’m meeting someone for lunch and have just realised I’m almost late…..

Check my T shirt 

Yeap! 

There’s breakfast egg all down the front of it.