When things get truly scary

I've put off writing this blog for at least a week. I couldn't really place how I was feeling, and decided that everybody in cyberspace that's waiting with baited breath for my next post could wait a few more days. Even now that I'm sitting down to write it, I'm still not sure exactly how I feel. I found a new spot, and while this isn't a completely new experience for me, finding this one nearly killed me. It's on my right arm. While that may not seem like much it means a lot. It's only about five inches from my wrist, and that's the scariest part of all. I finally have to start figuring out how I can live my life with limited use of both of my hands. Everything in me was hoping that I'd be able to use my right hand normally for at least several more years, and now I have to consider the alternative. Sewing is already a bit of a challenge, but with four moving fingers can I make it work? Can I do what I love with two mostly imobile hands? Who's ever heard of a costume designer who can hardly hold a pencil, or a cutter/draper who can't work a pair of scissors? It's all too real. It's all too scary. I'm stuck, I'm lost, I'm scared. No part of this is fair. And I know that life's not fair, but is it supposed to be this hard? Is it fair that I've finally found something I love to do and that I'm three semesters away from graduating, and now I might have gone to school for something I can no longer do? I'm tired of feeling sorry for myself, but I'm so scared about my future I can't hardly function. What do I do? Is there anything I even can do?