Today is December 13 … which you already know if you own a calendar, a phone, a TV or you even just leave home and drive by an electronic bank marquee once in a while. What today means for me is that it’s been 12 days since my surgery. And I’m trying to get back into the swing of things and sort of become myself again. But it’s proving to be a little harder than I expected. My cat got out this weekend and the walk around the block that I took to find him nearly killed me. And then there was the time I tried to sit straight up (rather than the tuck and roll). Or my sneezing fit today. Or every single cough, laugh or deep breath. Damn, I’m weak. And slow. And I’m so tired of these deficiencies. Tired being the operative word here.
But I’m trying to come back. And today, I drove. I actually drove my car by myself. I had no destination in mind when I got behind the wheel and I’m still trying to figure out why in the hell I chose to drive to Toys ‘R’ Us. (Seriously, it’s Christmas … but what was I thinking?) For what was a completely fruitless visit. But I got out there today. And I didn’t almost kill anyone. (Unless you count myself with the sneezing.)
Tomorrow, I think I’ll try wearing a bra again. Wish me luck.
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