"Going Somewhere?", Life Asked.

An only-too predictable story for Friday the 13th

Well, this awkward. Another Friday the 13th rolls around, and here I am, stuck to the recliner wearing a gigantic knee brace. The brace is my newest fashion piece, and a testimony to how life has waylaid me once again.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way. The wife and I joined a caroling group which serenaded houses near our church building. We all know the routine. Gather around a front porch or door, ring the bell, and join in song. What could possibly go wrong?

Well, I managed to find something. As we were approaching a house, my foot caught a piece of curbing I had not seen, and I quickly crash-landed on my right knee on the pavement before sprawling out on the ground. But no harm, I thought, getting up. I’ll probably be a bit sore tomorrow.

I got that right. By the time we got home, I was hobbling pretty badly. By 10:00 p.m. the knee was swollen up beyond recognition. By 1:00 a.m., I declared defeat and headed to the ER. Questions: How did this happen? Did you fall or pass out? How would you rate your pain right now?

Then it was time for inspection. X-ray. CT scan. And then the verdict.

Fractured right patella.

I’d been knee-capped, but not by the Mob. I alone was sufficient cause for this mess. And the consequences were becoming clear. It was as if Life took me aside and asked, “Going somewhere? Not so fast…”

And it will not be so fast. Anywhere from 3-6 weeks recovery, no bending the leg, no driving the car, confined mostly to the recliner.

And if this sounds at all familiar, it’s because it is: “going nowhere” is a story I’ve inhabited on many occasions. And now, it’s what’s for Christmas.

The next post on Revelation will appear soon. It was written before my plunge to the earth, and it may seem a bit uncanny if you read this first. That’s all I’ll say for the moment.

As always, my world and welcome to it.