Inez Castor

I want my life back! I suggest that unless you're under 12 you make every effort not to break bones. I have very good bones or this repair could not have been made in a manner that will give me full use of my wrist, but bone-building a child can do in six weeks is taking me 12.

In two weeks we'll repeat the pattern I've become accustomed to - x-rays one day and see Dr. Meyers the next. One break is still visible, so all I have to do is cram a gazillion bone cells into that little gap. Assuming it happens that way, and I'm sure it will, the framing structure will be removed from the building site on the following day.

I'd gotten very nervous about how that might happen, so I asked,

figuring it couldn't be as horrid as my fears. Believe it or not, I get

to take a little nap while the structure is dismantled. I'm sure that

will make the process easier for all of us!

After my recent introduction to modern anesthetics, the folks at

Sutter Coast will be able to induce a nap for me even easier, since this

time I won't be hurt, scared and shocky. In fact, the single downside

to winding up this adventure into the wonderful world of orthopedic

surgery is that I'll be saying goodbye to a lot of folks whose kindness

makes my eye gaskets leak.

I'm doing my best to speed the process. I massage the upper arm and

the fingers, play with clay, work at making a fist and practice mindful

moving. Holding still was a lot easier when the weather was lousy, but

so many people have put effort into this project, and it all happened in

such perfect order that I can't risk messing up the job.

Some things are forever changed, now that I've discovered options.

I'll never again struggle to get huge bags of birdfeed into a cart,

through a checkout line, out of the cart and into the car and finally

out of the car and into the shed. I'll pay for it at Crescent City Hay

and Gary will deliver it for me.

And thanks to the hunger of the local predators, there may be more

birds to feed. According to an article in The New York Times, domestic

cats kill an estimated 500 million birds a year, a thousand times the

number killed by power-generating wind turbines.

But nature has a way of balancing things out if we give her half a

chance. A couple weeks ago I saw a coyote disappear into the brush with a

cat in his mouth. I don't want to see any critter hurt, but I'd rather

have coyotes than cats. Coyotes don't catch many birds, and if cats

weren't using my garden as a litter box, I could grow veggies again.

Reach Inez Castor, a longtime Triplicate columnist, at