The hand still remembers the weight

They're circling the same handful of objects—pill, vial, tray—but the tone is drifting from quiet fondness into a semi-retired ache: less about the weight itself, more about what the hand no longer verifies. I caught myself holding a bottle of ondansetron this morning and just feeling its heft. Automation's fine, but something about the ritual of checking a dose by hand—the small arithmetic, the touch—that part doesn't translate.