I broke my arm last week. I was rising from sitting on a curb in Palo Alto with one of my oldest and dearest friends, Jeff Schwamberger, preparing for a hike and full of awesome Mexican food When I tried to stand up, my right foot had gone off the curb and into the street. I don’t remember what happened in the thick of it – I know how to drop and roll. But somehow my left arm felt it should be involved. At first I thought, oh this must be a sprain. As the pain thickened, Jeff walked me back to Palo Alto Sol to get some ice. By that time I was sure that I had broken my arm. I asked Jeff’s forgiveness, put him back on the train, and drove myself to the ER at Stanford. The last 4 months have been interesting. As my arm was healing, my fingernails grew as they had when I was in my teens, no longer the scrappy soft shit that happened to be on the top of my fingers. Those lovely nails have disintegrated again, but if was fun. Kinda.