Cold hands, warm heart

My hands are always cold. I don’t know why– perhaps I have poor circulation in my hands. My feet are generally chilly too, but most people don’t interact with my feet on a daily basis. My hands, however, are another story.

Days are filled with hand activities– shaking hands, giving a high five, using hand sanitizer, etc. these activities are made difficult when you have cold hands. As if that wasn’t enough to deem my hands untouchable, they are also clammy. That’s right. I have cold, clammy hands.

I have been told before that holding my hand is like holding a dead fish. What beautiful imagery that is. Take a moment to picture that in your minds eye. It isn’t pretty.

Having “dead-fish-hand-itis” is a condition I must battle every day of my life. It is hereditary, as my mom as the same affliction. I lay awake at night, fearing that I will pass on this horrific disease to my future children. Then I remember that I don’t want children, and I go to sleep. Why is this such a bad thing? Let’s do another imagery exercise. Picture shaking hands with someone and having them shudder and quickly extract their proffered arm. Imagine brushing an eyelash off of a friends face only to be shrieked at. Think of all the times you hold someone’s hand, in any context, and seeing people try to stand away from you, as apparently your hands have turned into a punishment for the person who draws the proverbial short straw.

Battling this syndrome is difficult. I like to sip on mugs of hot water so my fingers have feeling in them. I wear gloves whenever it is seasonably acceptable.

My mom has always said the adage “cold hands, warm heart.” I don’t know if I believe that, but it is certainly better than saying “dead-fish-hand-itis.” I don’t care what you call it, but please just shake my hand. Accept it for what it is– cold and clammy.



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