Off With Her Bed!

So the company that provides electric (read "hospital") beds came and hauled mine away this week. Part of me hated to see the full-body recliner carried out the door. (I want my next bed to have auto-propping!) But most of me rejoiced that I no longer need it.

Today I got back on the exercise bike for the first time since November 7. And I realized after I spent an hour on it this morning that I accidentally set it at a harder level than where I had it pre-op. That realization made me near-euphoric.

To cap off the transition, I received a handmade, tan shawl today from a group at an Oregon church which makes them as a ministry. When they complete a shawl, they gather to pray for the person who will wear it. A card that came attached said they asked God to give me "love, comfort, healing." So I drape it over my shoulders, knowing people I don't even know have prayed for my full recovery. Humbling. Gave me chills. I love it when people love God and each other with their five senses and artistic gifts!

(For those just joining us, I fell head-first down my stairs fifteen months ago, and I had hip/clavicle surgery for the second time this past November to repair a badly severed clavicle. We won't know for about five years whether it "took." And the only way we know is if the metal plate does not slip again. We can't follow the progress of the bone via x-ray because a plate now covers what we'd need to see.)

You have not heard from me in six days--longer than usual--because I have myself holed up and incommunicado to finish my medical thriller, Informed Consent, that Cook has me under contract to write. Finally today I had to stop and run errands, pay bills, and answer a few messages (I'm still behind). It astonishes me how fast the time goes when I get lost in Denver (where I set the story this time). I thought of Eric Little today--the runner whose story gets told in "Chariots of Fire." He said "When I run, I feel His pleasure." When I write, I feel His pleasure.