A year ago I was running half marathons. Today I’m using a walker to get around. I want to cry in frustration but I just tell myself I will get better, I will recover. I will hike again. I will run again.
Meanwhile, here I sit in a hospital bed, two hours from my home, missing my boyfriend and my pets and glaring at hospital food.
And wondering what I did to deserve to be best friends with a crazy cat lady for two days.
All my friends would probably say I deserve this, as a cat lady myself.
I swear to God I am so fed up listening to this lady who is my roommate talk on speaker phone on her iPhone to everyone she knows about her cats.
And I’m a cat person!
What worries me is I feel like she is me in thirty five years.
Except for I don’t smoke and I don’t sound like Stevie Nicks.
She looks and sounds just like the actress Jan Hooks when she played Jenna’s mom on 30 Rock. Two days of this was about all I could take. I was counting down the hours until I would be released from this prison, I mean hospital..
I’m beginning to feel like they quarantine all of us mountain people together.
And it’s hard to run away from a crazy when you can barely scoot around using a walker like an eighty year woman.
