It started out like any other day.  I’ve been trying to start jogging again and I was actually enjoying running with the wolfies.  Then out of nowhere I tripped and landed with all my weight on my shoulder, proceeding to skid a few feet on the cement for good measure.  More than my pride was hurt; I could not move my shoulder.  So I finished my run home holding the wolfies’ leashes in one hand while trying not to get blood from the other onto Burk’s undershirt.  Here is where I start counting my blessings:  Burk was off work and saw me so he was able to drive me to the doctor’s clinic.  They were very thorough and gave me 11 X-rays to check everything out, including my humerus bone which I thought was funny.  One nurse speculated maybe I had dislocated my shoulder because I was really in a lot of pain — and I have a VERY high tolerance.  The radiologist said I had “massive contusions” and I told the doctor I was a little embarrassed for coming but I just wanted to be sure everything was OK.  He told me he’d seen football players wearing pads have the same injury and cry.  I felt a lot better hearing him say I would have been crazy not to have come in.  For varying reasons I have always had a general rule that unless I’m profusely bleeding (heaven forbid) I just tough it out and don’t see the doctor.  However as I have gotten older this has not applied to check-ups and/or health screenings.  Another blessing:  nothing was broken!  Yet another blessing:  being able to have health insurance thanks to my husband’s job.  American moral and social philosopher Eric Hoffer said, “The hardest arithmetic to master is that which enables us to count our blessings.”  So I realized I was blessed to be suddenly slung in a sling.  Instead of trying to quantify my blessings I have tried to put some of them into words; they are too numerous to count … and too beautiful to adequately express.  I bet you will find the same.  Be blessed this day and all others.