No Bones About It
I fractured my fibula...
But at least I didn’t fracture my funny bone!
Yes, friends, you read that correctly: I busted my ankle. About a week ago, I signed up for the Portland half-marathon and I was feeling gung-ho, eager to jump into training, anxious to hone my body and mind. I felt certain that my first morning run would go something like this—
But instead it went more like this—
Ironically, I was running on a dirt path to spare my knees, and I ended up tripping on a pine cone. My knees are fine. My fibula, however—
It’s supposed to be one bone, with no gaps. WebMD informs me that gaps in your bones are (let me double-check the medical terminology) bad. But my orthopedist says that of all the ankle fractures to suffer, this is the best kind. It won’t require surgery. Just a whole lot of—
Doctor’s orders!
To help me mend, I’m relying on the most patient, caring, and attentive team of nurses. They tend to my needs. They keep me company. And two of them are world-renowned experts in the rest category—
The third nurse, to her credit, is a much better conversationalist.
I just hope they won’t grow weary of me on the long road to recovery…
The upside of spending endless hours prone on the couch is that I have plenty of time to draw. I’ve never felt luckier to make a living with my hands and noggin!
There are several projects that I’m excited to share with you…
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