Writer's Elbow
My left elbow has turned into one large, red, scaly splotch that hurts if I put even the slightest pressure on it.
It took about 2 seconds to work out why. Whenever I re-read what I've typed, which I spend more time doing than actual typing, I lean on my elbows. It seems I lean on my left more than my right, which makes sense because my right hand holds the mouse as I scroll back and forth admiring my genius or, more often, despairing at the crud I've produced.
Clearly this is a case of Writer's Elbow, a new syndrome I've just invented.
Except I haven't. I googled my new syndrome and discovered quite a few writers with the same complaint, and all in the left elbow.
Far from being an exotic new medical curiousity, I turn out to be garden variety presentation. Such is life. At least I'm in good company; among my fellow sufferers is Nancy Kress, who I'm astonished to learn types with only one finger. I guess if it wears down to a stub she still has nine spares.
It took about 2 seconds to work out why. Whenever I re-read what I've typed, which I spend more time doing than actual typing, I lean on my elbows. It seems I lean on my left more than my right, which makes sense because my right hand holds the mouse as I scroll back and forth admiring my genius or, more often, despairing at the crud I've produced.
Clearly this is a case of Writer's Elbow, a new syndrome I've just invented.
Except I haven't. I googled my new syndrome and discovered quite a few writers with the same complaint, and all in the left elbow.
Far from being an exotic new medical curiousity, I turn out to be garden variety presentation. Such is life. At least I'm in good company; among my fellow sufferers is Nancy Kress, who I'm astonished to learn types with only one finger. I guess if it wears down to a stub she still has nine spares.