The surgeon says my hand may never close again

Dear Delyara, I am a tattoo artist. A motorcycle accident damaged the nerves in my right hand, the hand I draw with, eat with, and have trusted for every line I place permanently on another person’s skin. Two surgeries have restored some movement, but I cannot close my fingers around the machine without tremor. The surgeon says further recovery is possible but uncertain. Clients send messages asking when I will return. I reply with hearts and vague dates. My apprentice is covering appointments and doing beautiful work. I should be proud of her. Instead, I zoom in on her photographs and search for flaws. That ugliness in me frightens me more than the injury. Yesterday, I tried holding the machine at home. It slipped and cut a crooked line into practice skin. I threw it across the room. My partner picked it up and said we could adapt the grip. I told him not to say “we.” This hand was how I earned money, made art, and recognized myself. Now everyone speaks about adaptation as though I have already agreed to become someone who needs it.