Treasured friends.

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Tonight's picture is of Floyd, Joan and their brother, Donald. Donald died with lung cancer 4 years ago, not too long after this picture was made. Floyd is the oldest. He is 83 and will be 84 on November 1. He is doing very, very well. They have him scheduled for surgery tomorrow afternoon. Due to the kind of break and his age, they feel it is necessary to do a partial replacement. We're taking a walker tomorrow and they say they will have him up using the walker soon after his surgery. That sounds great to all of us. We expect the surgery to last a couple of hours and for him to be in the hospital for a couple of days. Then they will release him to a rehab and he will be there until he can navigate the walker on his own. He is in great spirits. He is not in so much pain, thanks to a morphine pump, traction, and some muscle relaxers. I praise God and thank Him for Floyd's great spirit and patience with all this. Thank you for your prayers, too!

Last night was a rugged night for me. My knees were so angry that I had trouble sleeping and sleep is the thing I do best! I've decided that I am NOT going to continue with any jogging. My back and knees are too fragile to deliberately abuse them. It's one thing to hike, but I have a stick to steady me and there are great treats to see when hiking. Jogging serves no purpose except to make my heart beat faster and blow out my knees and back. I'll speed up my walking and if that doesn't help my heart to beat fast enough, then I may not live as long, but I cherish the ability to walk too much to trash it with a few seconds of running. I gave it a good effort, but I've got to read the signals my body is giving me. I know that more women die of complications from falls than breast cancer and ovarian cancer put together, and I'm JOGGING? Someone who walks with a cane and hikes with a stick is JOGGING with NOTHING to steady her but imagination? Okay; I'm done being stupid about jogging. Spending a day in the hospital with a friend with a broken hip was the final clue. I pray that I wasn't so hard headed and stupid that I had to see Floyd suffer to get the message, but it sure looks like it! God forgive me!

I'm headed to another soothing bath and a better night's sleep. Thanks to you who coached me to cease the jogging! (My sister, Ruthie, especially; she's taught me so much all my life, and she went into a conniption over this jogging; I thank her for caring so much and for her wisdom and love.)