“What’s wrong?” Paul had been asleep until I woke him up. When he saw my hand he wanted to know what happened. Still in shock I wanted to know what the yellow stuff coming out of my hand was. “Well Come on then. I hope this does not take all night. I have to go to work later”. Several hours had passed by the time I was led into one of the rooms. After my hand had been stitched up and instructions and pain medicine was prescribed I called the bank to explain why I would not be there. I rested while keeping my hand elevated. The next morning when I arrived back to work my hand was bandaged and sore. I explained that I had to keep my hand elevated as often as possible. I still had to get voided checks ready to be checked and any changes noted before the mail was picked up. One of the manager’s walked over to my desk to give me some more work that needed to be finished. It was in an area that I was not involved with. ” You will need to make some of Lins’ calls. There are so many she cannot do them all herself.” I did not mind helping out a coworker. I did however explain that taking notes on the call would be difficult. My injured hand was the same one I used to write with. “Well do the best you can. We need to be able to read it.” After I made the calls and filled in the paperwork I was ready to start back on the check orders that had been dropped off at the banks front desk. Just as I was getting ready to sort everything out I was interupped by the manager. “What is this? I can’t read anything on these papers “I’m sorry. I did try. I am not right handed.” It was obviously not what she wanted to hear. I had to make the same calls to the same people. It was a bit humiliating. They were not sympathetic to my endeavor. I was not fitting in to their cliques and I was not happy.