Is there something I've missed?

After five weeks, my fracture is showing SLIGHT changes. One is good, one is not so good. The very top of the fracture is showing faint (very faint) calcium buildup, which thrilled me. The bottom of the fracture has increased by 3.1 mm - which sent me into an immediate funk. Especially when the doctor told me I hadn't been "walking correctly." Once again I had training on the correct way to walk - actually shuffle is the appropriate word.

After my appointment with Mr. Wonderful (the doctor has the personality of a cobra about to inject its venom into me), I absolutely had to have a few things from the grocery store. While shuffling along through the store, two well-intentioned ladies asked me if I knew I was shuffling! Lawsy me, my tongue still has deep impressions of my teeth! However, I (as politely as was possible with a very sore tongue) explained I have to shuffle if I ever want my fractured pelvis to get better. They went merrily upon their way feeling, I am sure, that they had done a GOOD THING.

Once I became comfortably ensconced at home in my favorite night shirt and fuzzy slippers, I had a huge mug of tomato soup and a glass of milk, with a side of crackers slathered with fake butter! Although this is my form of comfort food, I didn't derive much comfort from partaking of it this time.

I couldn't help but wonder what in the world am I doing still here, breathing the air that others probably need much more than me. My days of productivity are limited at best (creating embroidery designs nobody seems to want but me has become rather a limited hobby), it appears my health will continue to decline as my age increases, and my family is in complete denial about the fact that being alone is not exactly a delight to me. No, I'm not suicidal! Heaven forbid I should have to face my Maker and attempt to explain why I murdered myself. It's merely that I seem to have more and more aloneness - not of my choosing. Maybe I've missed some valuable lesson with those attempts to do good for others. Hmmm, will playback and review!

I've been told to get out more often. Yeah, right! With gas so expensive that contemplating whether to buying groceries is all that necessary when I have to put gas in the car to get there surely would be enough to keep anyone with an IQ above that of a moron at home. I've tried the "volunteer" route - at the hospital, nursing home, at the senior citizen center, at schools, the library - you name it, I've volunteered. Arriving home from some of these stints would find me either in a complete state of depression, covered with bruises from miscreant little boys and girls, errant canes, walkers, and lifts, or angry as a wet setting hen at mother's who used me as a long-term babysitter for what should have been a short-term session!

However, every morning I say "Thank you for another day, Lord" and look for something happy to do, say, or think about. And, every night I say "Thank you for another good day, Lord" before I pray for those I've promised prayers. Yet, thoughts like what good am I, why am I still here, and how much longer do I have to be alone cling to my brain like the dust on my swiffer.

Whatever my mission is for my remaining days in this life, I certainly hope I can fulfill it properly and with great passion.