blog post I described my current injury (oblique fracture of my left distal fibula), so I thought I’d share some reflections on what life is like while coping with said predicament. I made it through surgery just fine, thanks to Dr. Mark Conklin’s steady hand, anesthesia, and a nerve block. I have a plate and eight screws to call my own now (and 19 staples holding me together at the moment). A semi-restful week has given way to resuming my routine, albeit somewhat altered from my norm. Conducting your life on one leg, even temporarily, is an adjustment—whether it’s hopping to the car, loading the handicap scooter in the trunk, or steering my way to the restroom (not in the car, mind you). Not being able to do as you please as easily as you are accustomed is frustrating at times. But, one of my favorite (or at least, most apt) quotes in life puts it in perspective: “If you don’t have a choice, you don’t have a problem.” I don’t have a choice in coping with my injury, but I do know it’s temporary—just like most things in life, good or bad. Managing and maintaining a career—whether it’s in massage and bodywork, association management, or practically anything else—takes balance, patience, and some degree of acceptance. I have taken an accelerated course in cultivating these qualities over the past three weeks, and will probably do so for another month or so. Injury or illness makes you selfish—it’s a natural reaction to focus on yourself. But I recall a Massage & Bodywork article from probably 10–15 years ago that encouraged framing pain against a backdrop of time. I am as guilty as the next person for remarking about how “time flies.” Suddenly it feels like it’s slowed to a crawl; but as a friend once told me, “Time doesn’t speed up; it just never stops.” But sometimes it feels slower, too.