Memories of my orthopedic surgeon screaming, "God Hates You!" at me, came flooding back as I tried to get my head out of the way of a 12"X4"X3" rock that my loving husband knocked off of a climb this weekend. Luck got my head out of the way; fate kept my left hand in the boulder path. Today, a millenia of evolution does nothing to help me button my trousers as my thumb is no longer opposable. However, with all the tender loving care being administered by my husband, I have great hopes for a full and speedy recovery.
In order to reduce the risks of brain trauma in the future, I would like a small, pink climbing helmet. Perhaps Edwards will get me one?
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