Post Surgery Week 5: Patience Is a Virtue

Friday, June 21

Patience is a virtue…..and one that I am sorely lacking.

I was absolutely certain that by the end of Week 4, I would be in fine mettle, eager to get back to the routines of life:  work, increasing exercise, and, well, imbibing whatever food and drink that I normally do.

But life has a way of playing to your weakness, and the setback that I suffered this past week is just the latest of the Jokester’s tricks.  I’m working on taking the setback in stride (although Lindsey and company will barely allow me any strides), but it’s a challenge.  Today’s clouds and rain help a bit.  After all, I can pretend that it’s just one of those rainy days I look forward to in order to slow down, read a book, watch a movie, and enjoy life in the slow lane for a few hours.  Never mind that everything I do right now is in the slow lane….

This morning after I got dressed, Ed looked at how my shorts were hanging on my body and said, “you’re losing weight”.  Well, yeah, and how weird is that?  I’m burning exactly zero calories;  you can’t count the tiny amount of PT that I do right now as true exercise.  I *do* work up a sweat on a regular basis, but that’s brought on by doing my morning ablutions:  PT, shower, reload the ice machine, make coffee and toast half a bagel, and prepare my morning meds.  All of that leaves me so exhausted that I need serious couch time to recover.  If I have reason to walk up and down the stairs in the same five minutes:  that’s a workout.

Morning Cocktail (and this is the reduced drugs version!)

But that morning cocktail of drugs is killing my appetite, and I find myself eating a fraction of my regular diet.  And more to the point is the fact that I’m missing my alcohol!  I’ve been dry since a day before surgery, which is a much longer stretch than I expected, but then again, I never expected to be on narcotics nearly this long.  A friend whispered in my ear that a little glass of wine wouldn’t hurt, but it seems to me that I’m already loading up my liver and kidneys with a bunch of toxins, and why take a chance?  Besides, I also fear that the drugs would probably screw up my taste buds, and who wants to ruin the taste of a nice glass of wine or a nice Scotch?

All of that doesn’t stop me from dreaming of what my first drink will be once I get shed of the worst of these drugs.  Our friend Rick mentioned the other day that he has a bottle of Prosecco chilling for just the occasion.  That sounds yummy.  And there’s some good dark beer that’s been in our fridge far too long:  it’s just shouting to be consumed.  And, oh, I keep hearing Dr. Betts - the anesthesiologist who told me, on the morning of surgery, to think of his drug cocktail as my morning margarita - oh, what I wouldn’t give for a good marg, and soon!  And there’s always my old standby:  red wine.  I practically owe it to my local wine shop to start there.  After all, I worry that my long abstinence may be causing them existential problems.

Ah, dreams.  For now, it’s time to pour my new favorite drink:  Whole Foods grapefruit flavored Italian soda.  Why don’t you join me in a Friday afternoon drink?  Cheers!