Like in the Rocky movies, right after he hits either a physical or emotional downturn in mid-movie, Mom is back in training only days after leaving the hospital. Cue the Training Montage, staple (in fact) of all fight movies, from martial arts and boxing films to wrestling, cheerleading, and dancing movies. (My favorite scenes are of Stallone and Carl Weathers sprinting, on the beach).
Mom hasn’t quite figured out how to blog here, so I’m reposting her Facebook posts (at which she has become expert).
Yesterday:
Remember the old joke that the brain was not the most important organ?? It’s been 5 days without BM and I don’t think that’s a correct statement –I KNOW SO!Stopped the drugs all together. I think, one incision opened. I feel like I’ve been ‘filet’. Little buddy came with beautiful flowers as did other friends. Those bird brains have not called about pathology. Letting me wait the whole freakin’ weekend.
One of Mom’s friends told her that if she had an open incision, she should get to the hospital!
Mom:
I’m not paying Emergency room fees on top of those inflated ICU rooms. (You’re a good nurse. You come and see. :-)– I’m going hiking tomorrow. Maybe not Black Canyon but nevertheless…
Three or four days after surgery, Mom is ready to train again. Can you believe it?
Today 6:02a.m. Mountain Time:
Hard rain most of the night. Great smells and sounds except for the huge Thunder. Came out of my bed (injury and all) like a shot and hollered ‘Holy Crap!!’ Dog ran under my bed and whined. If I could’ve, I would’ve followed. Going for a long walk at the park. Bored to tears at home.
It’s been gushing rain for days, in the form of thunderstorms. Mostly at night. Sleeping with the window open, there’s no better smell nor sound.
I wonder if this is the spot where I start? At least I can comment.( New fangled technology has me confounded.) But perhaps it’s the same when I try to tell someone a recipe and it’s sooo easy for me and not to others.
The walk, yesterday was a bit too much. Coupled with over 80% humidity, which is almost unheard of, it came to a halt.
I am black and blue to my elbows from some ‘secret’ needle point trauma.
Now, I’m wondering whether this is the day I will hear from pathology? Will it alter my thinking? Will it force me into a decision, not yet realized?
What I know for sure, is this: I’m going to Sports Authority to buy some rain-pants for my trip. (We need to check flights and get together where we’re flying into.)