The Verdict

7:45 A.M. Telephone lines at the medical center are scheduled to open.
7:55 A.M. Someone who works at the center decides that maybe it's about time someone opens the phone lines.
8:10 A.M. Nurse calls and offers appointment at 1 P.M. Since I know I'm going to end up being sent to see an orthopedic surgeon I ask if there's possibly an earlier opening? OK, hesitantly I am offered an 11 A.M. appointment with Dr. "Kenneth" (his real name).
10:50 A.M. I get to see Dr. "Kenneth" who doesn't make eye contact, who sprints down the corridor with me haggling after, who knows as much about knee injuries as my cat, who says he'll notify the hospital that I'm coming while walking out of the room without so much as offering to pick up my crutches that have fallen on the floor.
12:00 P.M. My neighbor/heroine of the day serves me lunch, coffee, and then drives me to the E.R.
14:00 X-rays - I try to use all that I've learned from years of watching Top Model about taking direction, using lighting, and finding angles.
15:00 I'm given a piece of paper and sent off to the orthopedic clinic. There I'm found guilty of 2nd degree assault and battery to my knee and ordered to return to the court, I mean clinic, the day after tomorrow to hear my sentence. The sentence will depend on what they find upon opening my knee surgically.

The irony is that all I ever do when I teach yoga is demand that my students follow all the biomechanic guidelines I can give them, to treat their joints with respect, and remember the vital importance of proper alignment. In life, work, and play, I constantly find myself for various reasons almost always on the floor. I am constantly going from sitting on the floor to getting up to sitting on the floor to getting up and so on and so on.

Hey, Karma! I don't turn 40 for another month! How about a break?! No, wait, don't take that literally!!