My Right Arm

I do not think I could survive 
Without the arm I use
To do the thousand things it does;
I guess this isn't news.

But somehow something's come along 
That means as much to me
And getting by without it
Would comprise a tragedy.

Don't judge me, for I'm pretty sure
That many can relate.
My iPhone's like a body part
That should not separate.

So when it wasn't working
Panic flooded through my soul,
Like my right arm yanked right off
And leaving just a gaping hole.

A guy at Staples fixed it.
Like a surgeon, he did catch
What the problem was, so my "right arm"
He got to reattach.