The opposable thumb is what sets us apart, mechanically speaking, from nearly all other animals on earth. It enabled us to develop tools, which in turn enabled us to make scientific advances, which in turn allowed us to create better tools—and so on, ad infinitum. It’s a very simple thing that we take for granted. I say “simple,” but the complexity of the thumb (no disrespect to the rest of the hand and the entire body, of course) that evolution has given us is impressive.

About four years ago, I was in a motorcycle crash when a careless, inattentive woman who could not be bothered to look to her left before hitting the gas accelerated into me on the right side with her minivan, wrecking my bike and wrecking me. I took prescription narcotics for a few weeks, and once I stopped them, I became aware of several minor injuries, including some left neck pain which soon resolved, a likely torn right calf muscle which eventually healed, and a surprisingly sore thumb. My theory is that I was hanging on to the handlebars for dear life, and my left hand was wrenched free, something in there went wrong. I never had a problem with it until the crash, and I’ve had trouble with it ever since.

I kept thinking it was getting better, but whenever I go for a long motorcycle ride, mow the lawn, shovel snow, or do anything requiring me to form a grip with my left hand (get your mind out of the gutter; I’m right-handed), I had to grip with that left thumb, it would hurt like the dickens and the knuckle would swell up alarmingly. Last September, I went on the longest motorcycle ride I had taken since the crash, a 200-mile trip, after which I could not bend it and the knuckle swelled up like I had a marble jammed in there.

It took until May to get in to see a specialist. The X-rays showed nothing, so he figured there was a cyst or scar tissue in there and recommended surgery. Today was that surgery, but I had prepared for the aftermath. I knew that I would be without my left thumb for a month. For the first two weeks, the dressing would have to remain on, so I’d have no use of it at all. After that, I’d need at least two more weeks of healing up before I could bend it all the way and use it properly.

All last week, as I rode my motorcycle to work and back, I practiced working the clutch with my left hand but without gripping the handlebar. This was more challenging than one would think. Without my thumb in the mix, I had to brace the ball of my hand against the handlebar in an unnatural position in order to squeeze the clutch.

I’ve been showering without using that thumb; something as simple as soaping up becomes our right-handed job only. I'm right-handed, which is fortunate, but I even tried shaving with my left hand. Try holding an electric razor and working it across your face without using your thumb.

Yesterday, I mowed the lawn. My mower is a walk-self-powered, so all you have to do is walk behind it and hold the lever down. But I'm frequently backing the mower up by pulling it so as to spray grass, and possibly rocks, in a direction that won't hit our cars or the neighbors' houses. Typically, I switch hands as I do this. Yesterday, I decided to use only my left hand when walking backward and without using my thumb. What a task that was.

Fortunately, I can avoid using my left hand when mowing. Not all tasks can be solved that easily.

This morning, I cleaned the litter box, gave my cat an insulin injection, and tied my shoes. It occurred to me while doing all three how difficult they would be after the surgery. Picking up the cat box to sift the litter, grabbing the cat by the scruff of her neck with one hand while injecting her with the other, and using both thumbs to tie my shoes as I have for nearly half a century—even tasks that simple had no simple solution.

Many things put humans at the top of the pyramid of life on this planet. A larger brain is one of them. A wider pelvis in the female to retain a pregnancy longer is another. But the thumb... it is impossible to overstate the importance of something that we don't really think about. The thumb might well have been the most important evolutionary change of all for us. No matter how smart we were or how long we could carry a pregnancy, without the ability to use and develop new tools, and to take the ideas we’d visualized and turn them into reality, we probably would not be where we are today.

Fortunately, I’m right-handed. But the next month will prove to be a nonstop array of challenges. Tying my shoes, typing on a keyboard (I am voice dictating what you are reading now because typing is a mess), picking up something that requires two hands, driving the car, giving injections, mowing the lawn -- everything will be an exercise in adaptation and improvisation. This past weekend, I meant to pull the dead battery out of my truck, and now I realize that this will be a nigh-impossible task.

Above all, I have no doubt that I will be reminded—with every challenging task—just how important something like a thumb is. This hardly compares to losing an arm or having no arms, but it's a little taste of what it must be like in a world where so much of what we’ve wrought is designed for people with opposable thumbs. I already have immense new empathy for people with physical challenges far worse than mine. I suppose we could all use a little more empathy, so this is a good thing.

Being right-handed, if I find myself in the unlikely position of needing to hitchhike, I should be okay. But I certainly won't be engaging in any left-handed thumb-wrestling championships in the near future. And no sooner did I get my sneakers off did I realize that I needed slip-on shoes for the next month, so it was off to the store to buy a pair.

If all this seems like a little too much whining, I suggest you grab a pen and a piece of paper and write down why you think so. But as you do, do it without using your thumb.

Thumbs up!

Photo by Piotr Lohunko on StockSnap

David M. Fitzpatrick is a fiction writer in Maine, USA. His many short stories have appeared in print magazines and anthologies around the world. He writes for a newspaper, writes fiction, edits anthologies, and teaches creative writing. Visit him at www.fitz42.net/writer to learn more.