As I reflect back over the past ~8 months, beginning with my father's decline and death last November and progressing through my accident on January 13th and the aftermath, I am slowly realizing that this journey I have been on is part of a predetermined plan, has a definite purpose within that plan, and will benefit me and others in ways I may not fully understand until my end of days.
I truly believe that.
I set several goals back in January, and I've achieved them all. I know - because several medical professionals have told me to my face - that I have exceeded their expectations and am well ahead of the curve in my recovery...for an old(er) guy. I did listen to and accept their advice; be careful, take it slow - and above all - protect those knees! But, wherever that imaginary "do not cross" line was, I was microns away from the edge...every day.
Many asked me not to try to meet some of my goals.
I didn't listen.
I took my recovery a day at a time, a step at a time, but always kept one eye trained on the horizon. I would gauge my improvement in the little everyday things that most take for granted. Walking ~30 minutes every night - from my hospital bed in our family room, through the kitchen/hallway/foyer/living room...and back again, I wore out the rubber pads on my brand new walker within a week; resolving that minor issue with duct tape and tennis balls. I surpassed a mile (with forearm crutches & braces) on our local walking paths within a month of surgery, and ditched all medical equipment within 90 days. I actually broke into a v-e-r-y slow jog a few days ago for about 10 yards.
Hey, it's progress!!
As offered in prior posts, I have some longer term goals which I will save for future discussion. With my return to work imminent, the frequency of my posting will slow down for awhile until I get back to and in sync with the daily rhythms of the commuting/working world.
Peace to all.
Even these recent visitors......