When I was 3 years old, I wrote with my left hand. I was in daycare playing on the playground. I was about to slide down the slide when my classmate, from behind, pushed me. When he pushed me, I tipped over the edge of the slide and fell to the floor on my left side with my arm underneath. I cried really hard because it stung a lot, and the play structure is on top of tanbark, so when I fell, I fell on the tanbark. Some of the tanbark poked my skin. My dad had to come to the daycare from work to pick me up. I cried until after the doctor put the cast on. I chose a green cast. I stayed home after I went to the doctor to get the cast.

About 4 months later, I went to the doctor and got the cast off. It was scary the doctor had to use something to take the cast of. When I got home, I had to take a really good bath because my arm smelled awful. I tried writing (drawing since I didn’t know how to write) again, but I couldn’t write very well with my left hand.

A year later, I went to preschool, I still wrote with my left hand. When my teacher saw this, she wanted me to change to my right hand before I even knew how to write. I tried very, very hard. I started writing with my right hand fluently. I used my right hand to write since then. Right now, I still write with my right hand, but I can do stuff with my left hand too.