Well, once at home the hospital physical therapy staff induced
exercise regimen kicked in with a vengeance.
Gotta get as far along as I can before the “real” physical therapy
starts where I have to go into the sweat shop and work out for a therapist for
an hour. Although the good thing will be
the ice pack at the end. That always
feel good. But for now … three times a
day – nine, two and six … ish – for 45 minutes to an hour at a time. And that includes, of course, Chris checking up
on me when I least expect it to make sure I haven’t fallen asleep or figured
out a way to get out of a particularly difficult exercise. Or two.
Actually there are three that are particularly tough …
I
am still seeing random things when I close my eyes after taking the stronger of
the pain meds. Last night I saw with
extreme clarity a car belonging to the warden of a Louisiana prison. How did I know it was his car? The Louisiana state government issues license
plate said so. Oh, and another thing I
noticed about the visions. They are in
black and white. No color at all. I was disappointed to realize that one. Maybe
I should stick to the other pain pills …
We
received an unexpected delivery the other day. It was a fruit basket with a poinsettia in the
middle. I guess with the romaine lettuce
scare we are trying other things in our salads these days. Seriously, though, it was a very sweet
gesture from Trish and Tommy Anderson.
Psalms
118:28 says, “You are my God, and I will
give you thanks; you are my God, and I will exalt you.”
Father,
thank you for our fruit basket friends, the Andersons. Bless them for the concern they showed
us. Amen.
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