These hands

There are times when I look down and see my hands. Yes. Of course. We all see our own hands all the time, but there are times when I see them.

My fingers are pretty long. Sometimes I think they're too long to be "manly."

My fingernails grow too fast. I want short, unobtrusive nails that don't look shiny or pretty. However, they just grow that way (and fast!).

"Clip...clip...clip...,clipclipclip"

Herself tells me that my hands are big and strong and make her feel safe. When she's not there: I don't see that.

What I see is my hands being wrong for what I want them to be.

I want my hands to be strong, every time. I want my hands to do the perfect thing, every time. I want my hands to be absolutely and perfectly "right on" every moment they touch someone.

Every time I touch a patient, I question that. It doesn't matter how well I do my job. It doesn't matter how well (or poorly) my patient ends up. I will always look at my hands as if they belong to someone else.

This is the worm of doubt. 

How did I do that?

Did I do that right?

Are these my hands?

--maddog