I never gave much thought to my little fingers, they were just there, sometimes adorned in a pinky ring, and used most frequently to make the sign for “I love you”...a gesture we use often in my family.
Last fall I hurt my left little finger, tore the extensor tendon, a mishap that occurred when I was in a rush and trying to multitask, (enough said on that, LOL). The damage is called a Mallet Finger, and it means I can bend it, but it won’t straighten any more, not completely. It’s still a bit swollen, and funny, there are none of the usual wrinkles, or creases on the end of that finger.
More recently I have had a very painful right little finger. It is swollen, and slightly twisted, looking very arthritic. I don’t know what I did to irritate this particular joint, but it continues to ache and be problematic.
Who knew a little finger was so important?
When gripping a jar, a bottle, whatever, I can’t get a good grip because of these stupid, crooked little fingers. I guess the little finger, being last, is the anchor to a good grip, and I’ve lost that anchor.
I’ve had to make adjustments when crocheting, hold my hook and the yarn just a little bit different.
Good thing I’m a two finger typist, so no changes made there.
Just another one of those little things you take for granted until they don’t work the same and you have to make some adjustments, but such is life.