As Joni Mitchell almost sang, You don’t know what you got till it’s broken. It’s been a little quiet here at TLC but that’s certainly not due to a lack of pointed opinions and eyebrow-raising observations. But instead of focusing on all the political and social issues that have been percolating the past few days, I’ve spent this past week dealing with a broken wrist.
My time has been consumed with an ER visit, X-ray photos, a trip to my primary care physician to get a referral, orthopedic appointments, pre-surgery testing, a drive back to the ER to pick up the X-rays, more pre-testing, and then finally, finally the out-patient surgery to fix the bloody break. It’s been stressful dealing with the medical bureaucracy along with the demands that come with earning a living. And of course, there’s the major inconvenience of having only one working paw, which, unfortunately, is not the dominate one. And did I mention all the pain?!
Well, now that I’ve indulged in a little self-pity, I can thankfully count my blessings. The injuries could have been worse. And after seeing the folks who also ended-up in the ER the night I broke my wrist and noting my fellow patients sitting in the orthopedic surgeon’s waiting room last week, I hope I am now much more appreciative of all those day-in and day-out miracles that I have very much taken for granted.
So, I may be typing with one finger and my posts may be a bit helter-skelter over the next few weeks, but in the words of George Costanza: I’m back, Baby, I’m back!