Home sweet home.
Yes, like Huck Finn with the Widow Douglas, I found “sivilized” life confining and have escaped, but not without considerable adventures. I saw the inside of three emergency rooms in three days. Instead of being treated, I was sent for “financial counseling” with broken bones displaced, and as a result, nearly lost a limb. Finally on Christmas Eve, with time of the essence, I found a place that would treat me, but once the bones were back in place and stabilized, had to wait a matter of weeks for the swelling to go down. Now finally the surgery is done, and I have nothing to do but wait. I have no idea how I’m going to manage, but if I may mix literary references, I think I’ll borrow a page from Scarlet O’Hara and “worry about it tomorrow”.
Just thought of something. With all the new hardware in my foot, how do I get past TSA at the airport?