Not To Worry
The doctor said the radiology report was "avascular necrosis." Bone tissue death. Lack of blood to the bone tissue.
"It's better," I said. "I really think I twisted it."
"It could be a bad bruise," he agreed.
Immediately after we finished talking I began to think, bone death, bone death, necrosis, necrosis, over and over and was almost physically ill. Paul was telling me something and I couldn't listen, focus. I thought of Teri.
I was better this morning, but I still called to get an appointment with an orthopaedic doctor. Dr. B hasn't called me, but it was after-hours yesterday.
Pottery class tonight. I'll try to finish glazing. I think I'm done making anything. It has to wind down. I'll miss Jean tonight and we will both be gone Tuesday - she, working at the polls; me, waiting with Paul for election results. I hope he still has his job! Everyone says not to worry.
Not to worry - old knees, pottery glazes and elections.
(I like this picture of the back of our house. The leaves are strewn like gold and I like to hear them rustle when I walk in them, or Oscar runs through them. He loves the cold weather. He's on the patio, barely visible.)
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