When I smashed my left ankle, I spent a week in hospital and came home with a no-weight-bearing cast and a prescription for Demerol. I had enough practice with the crutches to laps around the fracture clinic and figured I was good to go. The next day, I was too weak and groggy to crutch myself downstairs, or hoist myself out of the bathtub.

So I decided to tough it out without the Demerol — house arrest is bad enough; I couldn’t face being confined to my room. It was unpleasant, but a hell of a lot safer.