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Well, this old blog about new adventures is not starting the way I had planned, but life sends us our adventures in all kinds of different packages and it’s up to us, I guess, to find the amazement in it.

I did it again. My preoccupied mind a month and four days ago forgot all about what my feet were doing and then, whish, before I could activate the core muscles, there I was on the floor of the bedroom with a definitely broken left arm. What’s weird about this other than the obvious, is that it was almost six years to the day since I broke my right arm while strolling down a Columbus avenue. That one happened on Holy Thursday and this one on Ash Wednesday. I’m  thinking of bubble wrapping my body every Lenten season. It could be my own version of sackcloth and ashes to atone for my many sins — and I would be better protected against my klutziness.

The big difference in this broken-arm adventure from the last is that I have to go through that scarier-than-hell medical procedure called SURGERY! Yikes, just writing the word gets my pacemaker-heart beating faster than running up six flights of stairs. (Since I got that little metal box painfully tucked under my skin, I always wonder who’s doing the beating these days. I don’t get any kind of message from my heart that it’s taking a break and leaving the beating to the pacemaker. But, perhaps the’s the beauty of the gadget. )

After a month of carrying around 50 pounds of blue fiberglass on my arm — yeah, i do exaggerate — the perfectly coiffed, dandily-dressed 12-year old doctor in the fracture clinic decided my radius was not doing what it was supposed to and I should go see his “Hand Man”. This Hand Man surgeon — a doctor with two first names so I was calling him “Doctor Simon” when his last name was really “Peter” — was quite attentive to me and Macy (my broken arm named by my funny “assistant” who I’ll tell you about in another blog.) After zooming in on the x-ray of my wandering radius so I could see just how wonky it was, surgery seemed the best road to take. All this happened Thursday, and just like that, surgery was scheduled, pre-admission done and tomorrow morning at 8 am it’s happening.

So that’s that. I’m going to write how Macy and I get through all this. Maybe daily, maybe weekly — it all depends on what tomorrow brings. But i’m keeping the faith that all shall be well and I’ll be ready for those othernew adventures by May.