August 2006

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I have a scar on my hand. Several, actually, but the one on the big knuckle of the middle finger of my right hand is the one I mean. It's leftover from the fall back in June.

I'm still angry that no one at the hospital paid any attention to those wounds. Didn't even offer me antiseptic and bandages. It was several hours after I arrived that I was even allowed to go wash my hands.

Yes, compared to what many have been through, it's petty, but I hate having to see a reminder of that every time I look at my hand.

Outside myself, I'm concerned for several people right now. Some are ill themselves, and some have seriously ill parents or grandparents. My prayers are for healing and peace.

For all the rest of us, too.