Still pecking with one finger. Hard to believe its been only ten days since I slipped on ice and broke wrist. Slowed down in just about every way, plus don’t feel I should drive a car yet (though one of my sisters, now deceased, drove for 20 years with a useless right arm, thanks to effects of chemo. She’d substitute her knee for the missing hand!), which means I can’t drive 20 minutes to visit my paralyzed son C0lin. Still amazed to think that last year and before, the two of us would often zip off to a favorite nearby restaurant, without a care in the world.
Geez! Sure never thought I’d add a broken left wrist to my list of — what? Accomplishments? No. Sucky situations? Yes.
Thanks to my new “sketchers,” I still walk 3-4 miles aa day. But no yoga, chi kung or tai chi, so it feels like after only ten days my 81-year-old body is already moving out 0f alignment/integration.
In this kind of stuck scene, one cannot help but look to the future. Let’s see now. When I see the doc again, on March 6, after that will I feel free to move that arm around rather than as now, holding it in a sling, close to my chest?
Worst of all, I can’t even feel sorry for myself without the looming figure of cheerful Colin, enduring so much worse, for over six months now, and with still unknown outcome.
And yes, Colin spends a lot of time looking into his hoped-for future.
