It’s now been four full weeks after surgery, and I continue to gain strength. I drove yesterday for the first time, following the one-month guideline provided in my recovery instructions, and could feel the strain on my arms and chest. I can’t really use my arms and try to keep them tightly at my side as directed, imagining that they are enclosed in a protective tube. Even cranking the steering wheel proved to be painful.

I try to walk a little longer each day, but my thighs burn, something I rarely experienced while running. Then out of the mouth of babes, my five-year-old granddaughter suggested that my biceps were soft, poking the saggy skin hanging from my arm. She’s right – it’s remarkable how out of shape I’ve gotten. No running, no sit-ups, no push-ups for a month. “It should be expected,” they say. “You’re doing great,” they encourage. Last evening, I made it to the end of our street for the first time but was grateful that the wind was at my back on the return home.

This morning my shoulders are stiff and sore. In fact, I’m contemplating taking a muscle relaxant for the first time in a while. I am at least back to my normal sleep pattern, but this still involves a pee break every two hours or more. A night’s rest is still nothing more than a series of naps. Tally wakes me up at about 7:30a and I take my first steps of the day outside like clockwork, then gobble down a cup-full of pills. A new routine is gradually being established, as I move away from the addictive practice of running every day. Tally has her treat then begins to paw at my wife’s bedside, anxious to go to the dog park. Her substitute teaching the past two days have interfered with our dog’s favorite time of the day, when she is able to roam without a leash in the safe confines of the small dog section. 

I’m supposed to start cardio-rehab this week, following my release from home care a few days ago. I also have a radiology requisition for a procedure to drain fluids from around my lungs. In both cases, I’m still finding a lack of cooperation from our regional hospital in accepting orders from my Tampa General Hospital surgeon.  The excuse is that their systems apparently do not interconnect, so I have to make extra phone calls to get appointments arranged. In my mind, it’s the fact that they are uncooperative competition. It’s often become more painful than the actual surgery. I’ll be making more calls once I get back from my walk.

The walk at least took the focus off my tense shoulders and moved it to my feet and legs. For the first time, I returned to my standard running route, but only did a small section. My legs, like everything else, have weakened while my feet lack balance. At times, I feel a bit light-headed and unsteady. The beauty of walking over running is that I can actually stop and talk to people. I’m also not wearing my ear buds, so I can actually hear them. By next week, I should be able to make it a full mile, but now it’s just a matter of an extra block. There are no obligations today but a shower and shave. My wife has a tap class, haircut, and dental appointment. At some point, she and I will exchange Valentines.