I am getting used to inactivity, bit by bit, but I have to admit to having some dark moments of weepy sadness. It's at these times that I have to remember just how much worse this all could have been. I was near friends who have helped me; I had excellent medical care; I have lots to entertain me from books, to computers, to the Olympics; and this is only a broken ankle, it will heal, and I will be up and around.
I have a very dear friend who is now in the hospital, struggling to live. The prognosis is not good. She has had medical problems all her life, and never expected to live past middle age. She views every day as a gift, and never complains about the cards life dealt her. If only we all felt that way! When I start to feel sorry for myself, all I have to do is think of her, and my "problem" -- a 6 week rest with my books, my computer, my Olympics -- fades into nothingness. She is my hero, and perhaps my inability to travel now, to see her, is the biggest tragedy of my incapacitation. But I know she will understand. My thoughts, and my love, are with her always.