Out of my hands

I've always liked my hands - not because they were beautiful in any way though - just liked their character and they did a good job. If you,d asked me then what is the disability I feared most it was blindness.....I never imagined my hands would betray me. And now when I look at them it's like they're someone elses - not just the wound but muscle loss and bent fingers and the painful numbness.
My supervisors had to make me face reality - no more work till I am fully functional. I can stay here in my bungalow and visit the bears up at the centre but I can't work. I understand where they are coming from - things happen here very fast - emergency surgeries, bear rescues, cub arrivals and they need two fully functional nurses. And they're scared that if I return to work between surgeries I'll set back the healing. And they're right - I do tend to ignore (and try and hide) the pain until its too late.
So I resolve to:
- not go insane
- work madly on strengthening my hands and back
- start communicating again with my friends (have really only been talking to a few close friends and blip)
- study Vietnamese
- work out how to survive financially
- not go insane
and visit my bears to remind me what is at stake - to keep me positive