Coming Undone

It turned out that it wasn't Goliath that undid me, but my own bike.  Or rather falling off my bike and buggering my knee.  It was so exactly what I did not need in the middle of a two week trial that I gave in to a few moments of panicky self-pity "oh how am I going to possibly cope with four kids and a huge workload and people depending on me and a terminally ill client and and and...."

one of the many reasons I love my mum

And then I mostly got a grip, with only intermittent returns to self pity, and remembered that even when things are at their most difficult, I am so extraordinarily lucky: for my dear friend who is an emergency department doctor and got x-rays and investigations sorted for me, for my mother who came over and minded the kids and did my ironing, for my father-in-law who drove our unfamiliar-to-him car into the fog to pick me and my bike up, for my colleagues who brought me ice packs and cups of tea and zucchini slice and walked slowly to keep me company as I hobbled pathetically to court, for Craig who went out in the midst of a crazy day of his own to buy me this rather lovely (though not entirely practical) walking stick, for Grace who made me cards and presents, (and brought them to me as I tried to sleep) and for my immense good fortune in living in a country with health care so I don't have to worry that this piece of bad luck and timing will have anything more than a temporary impact.

As for Goliath, he and I both live on to fight another day, which, inevitably and exhaustingly, we will do.  In the meantime I am looking forward to finishing this bout and getting reaquainted with a few things I've been missing - like sewing and proper cooked meals and talking to friends and, oh yeah, my kids.  Missed them too......