And it came to pass that as I was getting dressed in my bedroom some three weeks ago, a normal ritual,  I somehow lost my balance,  and bang I went on the floor, like a bolt of lightning. As luck would have it I had just recharged my mobile and it was within easy reach. I couldn't move as a simple twitch sent me wild with pain.

 I called my daughter who answered immediately and told me she had just arrived in the driveway and was coming up She knew at once I had broken my right femur (do we have a left femur I wonder?) I soon fainted. The pain I suppose. She immediately called an ambulance and two large men picked me up, placed me on a stretcher and took me to hospital. My worst moment was being transferred from the stretcher to a bed in order to be X rayed and then back again to the stretcher. Ajma!

The operation was scheduled for the morrow. A young and handsome surgeon, the master mechanic,  was going to do it. This was the first time in my long life that I had experienced anaesthetic and it was my first operation, too, and I hope my only one.

 I must say I loved the sensation of the anaesthetic.  (I was later to discover the delights of pethidine.) And so molto presto total oblivion and I didn't care anymore. Later I thought of those undergoing something similar or worse before anaesthetic was discovered.  I read that little more than opium and alcohol were offered to endure the agonizing pain of an extracted molar or tumour and so on. We have an American dentist, William T.G. Morton,  to thank for this discovery. Life being unfair he died a broke and embittered man however, "it would be decades more before he was rightfully returned to the pantheon of medical greats."

 My daughter assures me that I am lucky I had not broken my right wrist as I really would have been helpless then. I know of several people who had suffered a broken wrist. I now realise I did not empathise enough while they were going through what I was going through now, more or less.

 I was beautifully looked after. I am so grateful. So very grateful.  Physiotherapy started immediately with a competent young lady with a sense of humour who was not going to let me get off lightly. She meant business and she was excellent and patient as we went walkies in the corridor and I hobbled and staggered leaning on the zimmerframe.

A few days and I was discharged. This was the beginning of my journey to being officially old. It was nappies next. I couldn't believe it. Second childhood. But they didn't last long and my underwear was soon back to normal. Bring out the bunting I said to myself.

I am glad I can get into bed alone now and do not have to have someone lifting my right leg to place it under the duvet something which I was incapable of doing.

I wish I could have been in a position to tell friends and family that I broke my femur skiing, climbing a mountain, ice skating, dancing a tango perhaps and not while doing something as mundane as getting into my underwear.

I am so lucky to have so much help at hand. My sisters, my brother and sister-in-law and my daughter not to mention kind neighbours and friends all offering and delivering help and food and treats. What do those who do not have help at hand do in these circumstances?

In the past several friends had informed me that they had broken some part of their body - I remember one of them breaking her left shoulder and since it was badly set had to have it reset. The inconveniences are many. Not being able to drive, to me at least, is the biggest hurdle.

 You are limited in what you can do and then the inconvenience and pain. I am now much more sympathetic and wish to apologise if I haven't been caring enough to my suffering friends, not realising at the time, the seriousness of their situation. Mia maxima culpa! Often one has to experience something oneself to really empathise properly.

My 9-year-old grandson send me a photo of the biscuits he had burned. Sixty of them made for International day at school. He told me he had grilled them instead of baking them. I told him I had burned more than biscuits in a lifetime of baking. To put it behind  him and learn the lesson.

I have missed some events to which I was truly looking forward. Tosca for a start. The concert at the Hilton with the Malta Philharmonic Orchestra when Tchaikovsky's Pathėtique was to be played. Lunch at Rosami to commemorate International Women's Day and only this week Richard England's talk at the Phoenicia.

But all is not lost. Three weeks and I am free to drive again.

Things are looking up. Old friends will be coming on Monday from England. And what do you think landed in my post a couple of days ago if not a copy of Richard England's latest poetry book: Between Coincidence and Chance - Selected Poems. The illustrations are by his grandson Damian Darmanin, another gifted artist. The book is published by Kite and so well designed: a poem on each page with plenty of white space to rest the eyes. Now I only have time and space to browse through it. More later on.

Professor England asks questions which all thinking people ask:

IS

DEATH

A

DISTURBING

DISQUIET

DEPARTURE

OR

A

SERENE AND TRANQUIL

ARRIVAL

?

Indeed. Will we ever know, on this earth,  if there really is life after death?

Another thought. Another poem.

I believe in unanswered prayers. Sometimes it is indeed better for us when our prayers go unanswered. St Teresa of Avila wrote: "More tears are shed over answered prayers than unanswered ones." This is the epigraph chosen by Truman Capote for his unfinished novel: Answered Prayers. The amoral P.B. Jones, the protagonist of this novel, discovers "that the prayers that are answered cause more pain than those that remain ignored." Here is Richard England in the same spirit:

AT

TIMES

WHAT

IS

NOT

IS

BETTER

THAN

WHAT

IS.

I am looking forward to exploring the book.
I have an appointment with the master mechanic who inserted titanium or whatever to repair my femur, in a couple of weeks' time. I hope he will find that everything is fine and allows me to drive.
In the meantime have a VERY HAPPY EASTER today with plenty of figolli and chocolate.

And do your best not to fall.

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