One in Twenty-Six

That's all it takes. One small stupid mistake and your whole world is turned sideways. Upsidedown wouldn't be fair, but sideways seems about right. I can't walk without crutches, I can't cycle, I can't golf, and I find myself crawling around the house for a glass of water.

One small bone out of twenty-six and I am practically incapasitated. You would think twenty-six is pleanty. To the point that redundancy was built into the system. Or were we created so perfectly, with so little waste, that if you ruin one, you ruin the entire apparatus? That is what it seems like. After four days it feels like I don't even have a left foot; I can't use it. Man, I hate loosing control.