The Home Health Nurse from Samsara Hospital came to assist Ian with his new foot and with the depression. He and I chose the prosthetic that would best suit him. He could wear it as soon as the swelling was down and the skin growing in around the bone was thicker. Ian was not very anxious to wear the foot, so he chose the wooden one and I chose a cutting edge plastic one. The Home Health Nurse was pleased with our choices and with Ian’s recovery. She left week’s later after spending whole days trying to help Ian with his set back.

When she left she said, “The road to health goes through Samsara Hospital.”
To which Ian replied sarcastically, “Happiness all around.”

I worked at the factory while Ian was convalescing and got used to the schedule of cows, oxen and Ian. I did not worry about Ian that much. He hobbled around on crutches and with the right amount of time could go back to being as active as he wanted. I knew that, the Home Health Nurse knew that, but Ian would not. One day I was surveying the obscurity of the ox cart’s remains and felt an overwhelming hate. I wanted to roll it down into the canyon and set it on fire. It sat there big and strong untouched by the unfolding of Ian’s life beneath it. The right front wheel had a small chunk removed at the curve where the spoke unites with the wheel and lots of dried mud. I knew it was easily fixed but left it to Ian to do when he was ready.

The weeks passed slowly with Ian smiling more as he steadied on his left foot. He could not find a piece of wood to fit the small chunk on the ox cart wheel so he devised a new way to deliver the milk. He bought a thick three foot long wooden pole. He etched out a crosswise hitch and laid the bucket handles securely in the hitch, picked up the pole, laid it across his shoulders and behind his neck. It ended a few inches out past his shoulders and with the buckets bouncing off his hips as he walked with a lopsided gait, off he went to deliver the milk.

I heard about the milk delivery at work, one of the seamstresses saw Ian taking the milk to Mrs. Talon’s house. I was elated to hear he was out and anxious to hear about his day when I was able to leave the factory. It turns out Ian made all his stops and got home before sprinkles of rain could drench him, with no milk left to spare. He spent along time delivering as everyone knew of his accident and he spoke at length about his ordeal to the housebound ladies.

Many were surprised to see he would go back to delivering the milk and glad he did. I knew Ian had a few hurdles yet to mount, the ox cart and going to the monastery. I waited for Ian to see the first few days on his own before I would begin the push to making him whole. Walking the deliveries added more work to the day for Ian as he had to make more trips home for buckets. I tried talking him into purchasing a truck, he said, “It helps me to get used to my new wooden foot.”

He rode the bike one night and when he came back I saw him looking at the plastic prosthetic I chose. He showed me how the balls turned upon itself for good ease of use and how the foot part was like a ski. In another month we would probably have snow, I said, “It will work to your advantage to have a custom made ski on.”

He answered with a smile, “I have another advantage. I have less body parts to get cold this winter.”