The Art of Small Problems

With all due candor, I pen these lines to convey my profound disdain for certain trifling maladies that, surely beyond your concern or comprehension, possess the potential to wreak havoc upon a life or professional career.

Pray, observe with care, for I suffer a slight infirmity in the tendons of my hands, in both hands, to be precise. Nevertheless, let us concentrate our attention upon the left hand, where the affliction reveals itself more acutely.

I cannot ascertain whether I am left-handed or right-handed, for I employ my left hand more frequently in daily tasks, yet I write with my right hand. Regardless, I wish to draw particular attention to the left hand, as I am wont to play the guitar, and it is with this hand that I form the chords.

The ailment manifests predominantly in the thumb and index finger of both hands. I am unable to lower my thumb, to fashion the number four, for instance, without the tip of my index finger contorting in kind, causing me considerable pain and discomfort. Indeed, it is so distressing that I feel as though the bone in my index finger aches, as if it were being crushed.

Let us now turn to the matter of vision, a most splendid faculty we possess. I see with utmost clarity at a distance, without any hindrance, I might avow. Yet, lights render my vision blurred.

Whenever I gaze upon lights, not necessarily intense, but particularly in the dark of night, I perceive as though a longer beam of light emanates from the principal lamp, striking my eyes and obstructing my sight. It does not cause pain, truth be told, but it is discomfiting, and I fear that one day this might bear a deleterious effect upon my existence.

I am beset by various troubles, much like you, dear reader, and the rest of the world; but I have chosen to elucidate these two particular issues by mere chance.

I have already imparted my discomfort to my caretaker, but they merely dismissed it, asserting that I am well enough to carry on. I have never undergone any thorough examinations and doubt that I shall soon discover the true nature of my malady, if indeed there is one.

The crux of my discourse is that I am aware these afflictions may impact me far more grievously in times to come. The suspected affliction in the tendons of my fingers may impede my ability to play an instrument that I hold dear, and at which I am still but a novice. My vision problem, or presumed problem, may, with the relentless march of time, simply deteriorate, necessitating spectacles with a stronger prescription than would be required at present.

I do not wear spectacles, I confess with some trepidation, but I would contend that it would be far more cruel to resort to them only when the malady has advanced beyond its current stage.

I merely posit that greater attention should be afforded to individuals, to heed their laments and perhaps exercise a modicum of compassion.

Of course, for you, all is well; it is not you who inhabits the body of the person before you, feeling their physical form bound to your bones and their mind confined within that small chamber of the skull.

You have your own afflictions, but do not deem yourself unique.