My best friend.

My best friend is my own left hand. The best gift from my mother, the same as her own except for the nails. 
Larger than average for a woman, strong but with a very gentle touch.
I love my hands, especially the left one. 
Following what should have been routine surgery, done in a private hospital, only because another three months with a catheter was intolerable, S developed a drug resistent infection. 
Nine days after surgery, I feel confident that the worst is behind us. What a terrifying time this had been. This is the first time that I realised that we really are old and fragile, how ever hard we try to keep strong and fit. 
Not giving up though. If anything, this has made me more determined to make fitness a priority. Up and out walking in the pitch dark every morning. The rest of the day can take care of itself.