At the doctor's office today, I learned that my medical record mistakenly shows that I have diabetes.
"Wouldn't I know I have diabetes?" I asked, and the nurse laughed.
The doctor raised his hand and announced, "From this moment, you are healed!" and we both laughed.
A small error, perhaps, but one that could have caused some difficulties in an emergency or in the case of surgery. Neither could explain why the anomaly appeared (probably a coding error), and it was quickly corrected.
Just as quickly corrected is my day any day when I can get outside, even if only for a few minutes.
A splash of rain, a male undergraduate opening his swim trunks slightly (back to a bevy of girls) to pee in the lake, the land stripped for the dog park running straight downhill into a small lake channel -- these become petty annoyances, immediately erased by the sight of a single Calico Pennant, the first I've seen emerge this season, and the restorative realization that I can choose to see what lasts.