And so, all the arrangements were made. During the first week of December, a full two months after my motorcycle accident, I was admitted to the hospital with my American mother in tow. We were at the branch hospital in Linkou, not far from the mountain where Yuni and I had met. The facility had beautiful grounds and a little lake. It was set up as a surgery and convalescent center. I was to be in the hospital for at least 21 days to be sure that everything was healing okay and that the bone graft “took” without infection. There was a huge food court down in the basement with all kinds of different styles of cuisine: Japanese, Chinese, American, noodles, etc. Mom learned to buy food there very quickly. She made many friends in the hospital.