Earlier this year a very good friend of my was de-horsed and landed on her spine. She broke her pelvis and fractured a few vertibrae. Recovery is progressing well, but gymnastics will never be advisable again. I was a long, long way away, before you start reminding me of Christopher Reeve.
If you recall, I feel personally responsible for what happened to Mr Reeve, in that I arrived in Charlottesville the day he was disenhorsed. Then to compound this, the week I returned back to the US for the first time since then, he popped his clogs. I am assuming I don't have kriptonite bones and that it was just a coincidence.
But sometimes these things have a connection. It always struck me as significant that Mother Theresa died on the same day as Princes Diana. My theory was that Diana was indeed The Evil One and Mother Theresa could not die until she had defeated her. Once Diana had passed on, Mother T's purpose on this Earth was complete and the years of fighting were able to take their toll finally. This is of course not a popular theory. In fact it's so crazy even Mohammed al-Fayed refused to buy it. Especially as it would have meant his own son was a consort of one of the devil's minions. With time, I have since reflected that Diana was probably not The Evil One (even though her death released enough power to short out the TV stations for several days!) but was just a poor little rich girl hounded from a multitude of directions.
Thank the Spaghetti Monster, my friend has not the same level of severity as Mr Reeve. And should return to full mobility, which was not always obvious. If there is some conclusion to draw from this it, er, must be that... er, I am evil? That sounds about right.