Yesterday was not a good day for anything but writing, so last night I finished the third book of the year. Needs a final read-through, but it's in decent shape.
Today I go to the bone doc with my son, and see how the fracture looks. If it hasn't healed, we're looking at a third cast or surgery. My son has been in a wheelchair for about two months now, and I have a whole new respect for the handicapped and what they have to deal with out in public.
While we're doing that, his father will be fifty miles away having his four month post-op check. He's fine so there shouldn't be any scares there.
Thursday I go back for my fourth go-round with my doc, which may or may not be the last, depending on how everything has healed.
Not a good week to be depressed and angry, so I'm going down to the lake as soon as humanly possible to hang out with the birds and do some meditating. I have some letters to write, and some Chinese brocade to play with, too. I'm going to make a new tablecloth, now isn't that riveting? It's just nonstop glamour around here.
Life goes on, even when we're diminished by something terrible and sad, something that makes us so angry we don't trust ourselves to speak to our friends. Life is like that.