Thursday, 29 April 2004 | The metal

Sometimes I like telling the story about how I wrecked my bike on the bridge, how I was put back together with metal parts, and, hey, you wanna feel the metal? It's here. Sometimes I'm aware that I got really lucky and that I could've gotten hurt much worse; sometimes I remember that my physical therapists once told me that my progress was exceptional.

And sometimes, even though I remind myself that there are people so much worse off than me, I'm frustrated and even pissed off that I can't straighten my arm, that it often hurts considerably (even when I'm barely using it), that I'm embarrassingly weak, and that there are things (I fear) I will never be able to do again.

It really depends.

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(By the way, this website is three years old today.)