You know how some people get injured and it teaches them patience and to savor the little things in life? When they heal they quit their fast paced jobs and move to India. This definitely is not Nora. Nothing about her injury was life-improving. She was a restless patient, frustrated by her immobility, the kind of invalid that peels off her bandages every day just to see if there is even the minutest improvement. She may even have measured the wound. Staying off her feet for six weeks did not help Nora better appreciate dancing, athletics, or freedom. In fact, if she ever thinks of the accident I’m sure her only response is “good riddance.” No lessons, no regret, no deeper meaning. A pointless scar -- how refreshing.


This was the oozing sore I developed after walking around in the jungles of Laos. The scab would randomly burst from burgeoning internal pressure allowing yolk to start infecting the area around the sore. The language barrier made it difficult to describe the symptoms to the Asian doctors. But I think the wound alone was international for “please give me antibiotics”. Oh, and yes it left a scar.