A great big sigh of grateful

Precisely 21 days ago I very foolishly challenged a box in the back seat of my car to a wrestling match. The box won and my poor, poor, very poor back lost. Please, if you possibly can, avoid back sprains at all costs.

My convalescence has included an inordinate amount of time both in bed and in the bath, many moons spent with a heating pad and an ice pack, a handful of muscle relaxers and just last week, the beginning of physical therapy. It has included very little productive work of any kind and certainly not a stitch of anything involving exercise.

{It has also, for the 7 millionth time, caused me to tumble head over heels in you-know-what with my Jan Michael, who has washed dishes, folded laundry, swept floors and on and on, in order that I might rest and heal. There's a lovely silver lining in everything, isn't there?}

Anyway, today - for the first time in precisely 21 days - we were able to take a walk. Going outside for the sake of going outside after what has seemed like a century was so refreshing, I almost cried. I'm tempted to say I'll never take a healthy, cooperative body for granted again, but human nature being what it is (or mine, at least), that kind of declaration seems a little bit hasty. It's something to work toward, though :)

And maybe tomorrow we'll be able to go out again and make a pit-stop at the park for some time on the swings!