Then ring that bell. Build that fort. Start the broth-off.
For example, when 14-year-old Maya Carva broke her leg, she was stuck on the couch for six weeks. Instead of moping, the family moved the couch onto the front lawn. They built a tent around it. They hosted a "Driveway Film Festival" with a bedsheet screen. Neighbors brought popcorn. The mailman delivered letters addressed to "Maya, The Couch Queen."
Tucked away at the end of a winding oak-lined drive, the Carva household is known for three things: the world’s creakiest porch swing, a fridge perpetually stocked with homemade lemon-ginger fizz, and an almost absurd philosophy that recovery should be fun .
Get weirder soon.
Lunch is not a quiet affair. The Carvas have turned the "bland diet" into a competition. Everyone brings a spoon to your bedside. Each family member presents a variation of broth: lemongrass and chili (for the brave), creamy mushroom (for the weary), or Leo’s infamous "Mystery Mineral Broth" that glows faintly under UV light (for the very, very bored). You act as judge. The losers have to do your laundry. Suddenly, you have power. Convalescence is exhilarating . The "Get Weird" Protocol The secret to the fun convalescent life at the Carva household is their "Get Weird" Protocol. They understand that pain shrinks your world; humor expands it.