I'm not an especially good nurse, least of all to myself - as growing up with a grandmother who believed in mind over matter (Christian Science), at my base I feel I have failed. But I am charged with caring for this disk about size of a silver dollar and perhaps deeper, a result of MOHS surgery to get the last cells of a squamous cell carcinoma on my right ankle. I have been prohibited from work in the begging to be planted garden in mid May. It is a no go to walk to the river and swim. I need to get off my feet to allay swelling which might hurt chances for a skin graft - altho i am unsure if I will need one - the explanations are slim and unsatisfactory. I am impatient.
Watched the kids with inner tubes set off for the river with their good friends. Waved. Asked them to splash for me. Sweet ones. At 74 it isn't too hard to settle back into vicarious pleasure. I have walked to the river a few times since the surgery. I like disobeying.