Lucky?

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I keep hearing that.  And, I keep thinking someone doesn't understand "lucky".  Now, maybe that is me.  I mean, it could have been worse, far worse.  And, yes, sure, I'll recover, probably, in a week or four.  Probably through the worst of it?  Probably.  But... having to go through a couple to six weeks of recovery just doesn't sound lucky to me.

Oh, well, sure.  No gear.  So, given the givens.  But... when does luck talk about givens?  All I am saying is, when I hear doctors, nurses, and others who have been in accidents, say "lucky".  Especially with the looks in their eyes sometimes?  I'm thinking... if I was truly lucky, it would have been faster, and I would have had no wounds.

However?  I... think I learned more from this than I would have from that.  Though, I like to think I would have learned either way.  I think, usually, I am at the point where I can often learn from other people's mistakes.  Not this time.  I was a bit too tired, I was getting frustrated, a few things confused me.  Not again.  If I get to some point where clear thinking might be difficult, that's it.

No, I won't like that answer.  But I will accept it.

Didn't get to bed.  Gamed a bit, in order to... try to... make it further.  But I'm just dying here.  The bandages, twists, bruise, and else, have me in a difficult position.  Pain just weighs me down.  And it's cool, maybe cold, out there.  I'm dressed warmly.  Which helps.  But the pains are just catching up and pounding me down.  I made it to the appointment.  Anything since has been a grace.

On to bed.  Good night, or day, or afternoon, or such.