Today’s the sixth anniversary of the day I didn’t die from a bunch of blood clots in my lungs, the result of having my leg more or less immobilized for a couple of months after breaking my leg and ankle.
Three years ago, I took the opportunity to celebrate by dancing on the grave plot Barbara and I had bought earlier that fall. The next day I was in the ER with an intense pain in my foot that turned out to be gout.
Now I’m just a couple weeks off of crutches after wracking up my knee back in September.
No dancing this year. Just gonna lay low.