By the time you read this, it will have been six weeks since a fin on my surfboard punched a whole in my thigh, coming precariously close to the femoral artery and pretty much making April a blur of doctor’s visits, stumbles on crutches and trying to figure out how to pull medical tape off of legs that are hairier than a clan of grizzly bears. As I can see the end of this long episode now that I’m off of crutches, on to physical therapy, and finally able to look at my leg without spitting out words that my 2-year-old daughter is surely storing away to reuse at school there are some thanks than I need to share that haven’t been shared enough. People often come up to ask how I’ve been, how I’m doing, and to tell me how sorry they are to hear that, well, essentially my stupidity finally caught up with me. They say it much nicer, and with much more sincerity. I’m always appreciative, and it’s nice that people care. But the thanks goes to the person who really deserves most of the credit. The person who had no say in this whole matter. I injured myself, and I had to suffer through it. Maybe one day they will invent the equivalent of carbon credits for injuries where you can pay someone else to trudge through it for you. Until then, you make the mistake, you pay the price. The same could not be said … Continue reading Thank You, Honey, for Getting Me Through It