The last couple of weeks have been a time of reflection. I've often gone on about enjoying life's little pleasures, but I don't think I really ever appreciated just how many things I've taken for granted in daily life that aren't noticed until you can't do them.
I usually sleep on my front. Can't do that now, so I have to lie flat on my back unable to even turn on my side to relieve the stiffness in my back.
If I was to make a cup of tea I have no way to carry it from the kitchen to the living room.
I can't get in the bath or shower so I have to have a strip wash in a chair.
It's so unbelievably difficult to come to accept that I need other people to do the simplest things for me, especially having always been so capable and independent - always being the person doing things for others wherever possible.
Maybe it's karma giving me a good hard kick in the head. The past year has been a rollercoaster and in some ways perhaps my current situation is things being put back on an even keel.
Sometimes, though, you wonder if karma gets a bit carried away. Or maybe it also works like a sort of credit account where bad shit happens to you so that when you do something bad yourself, the balance is restored.
Depeche Mode sang 'I don't want to start any blasphemous rumours, but I think that god's got a sick sense of humour', and I suspect that much the same can be said of karma.
Having had extensive knee surgery on Monday, ending up with two metal plates installed and numerous screws to hold the bones together (should be fun if I ever go through airport security), and spending a few days on the ward getting to a state where I was deemed fit to be discharged, I've also seen and heard things that make my own situation seem pretty trivial.
The bloke in the bed to one side of me had a ton of hay bales fall on him, breaking both legs and a collarbone, and only survived because a wheelbarrow prevented all the weight crushing his chest. All this just a week after his German Shepherd ripped up his arm while playing ball. So there he was facing many weeks or months of pain and rehabilitation, lying about with scaffolding holding his leg together and suffering the indignity of loss of bowel control. I really felt so sorry for the poor bugger.
Elsewhere on the ward was some old lady clearly suffering with dementia (which surely has to be the ultimate bastard of diseases), who was in a terrible state and made everyone else upset with her frequent bouts of shouting and screaming, and then there was some bloke who was unable to keep anything down and spent extended periods vomiting noisily.
All this time the poor nurses, carers and porters were rushing around like blue-arsed flies and somehow keeping their heads straight amongst all the mayhem. They truly are angels - all of them.
Apologies for a lack of humour over past few posts but it's a bit hard to find things to poke fun at at the moment.
I'll just finish up by expressing my sorrow at the untimely death of Paul Walker. It was a real shock to read about it this morning, and my heart goes out to his family and friends. Rest in peace, Paul.