Standing on Two Feet

I'm writing about my adventure to the Osa. Going through photos, I see my beach shot. I forget this - that there is a luxury in having two feet, attached to two legs, attached to a body, all served up with a brain that's meant for moving. Look, I'm walking.
    Not today; it's the second time in six years I've donned a cast. First, on my left foot; now on my right. "That Achilles heel." Thank you Lord, I only have two feet.
    It's not until there's a blip in the natural order of things that you realize just how much it sucks to be dependent on others for everything, how solitary life can be. I suppose a wake-up call is useful. Gratitude for the little things - like that cup of coffee, walking down or up two stairs, going to the bathroom, escaping quiet.
    Then, your phone dies and you spend an entire day on the alien land line with ATT and Apple support. Another lesson in the universe: be careful what you ask for.