I'm not usually a fearful person. It only occurs to me after I've gone somewhere or been involved in something I shouldn't that I ought to be afraid. So it took me a long time, ten days to be exact, to realize I was afraid of going out for a walk again. The first week after I fell the weather was so unpleasant I never gave it a thought. This week has been much better and yesterday was a beautiful day. I finally took out my walking stick, swallowed my fear and went out; I am happy to report, without incident. My face looks much better. The remaining discoloration is under the frame of my glasses and hardly noticeable.

I'm not sure about the walking stick. I have no trouble walking and I'm having trouble envisioning how it might help me if I tripped again. In fact, I can only think it might create more damage. Steve wants me to use two of them. I suppose that might be better, but I don't like the idea. It seems cumbersome.