In Recovery

A week later after my surgery I ventured out for my first walk to the park. I go through a neighborhood to give me more time in the walk, about twenty-five minutes total. I usually sit on a park bench to check my phone and to take a breather. In the morning there a few people about, a couple parents and kids at the playground, a couple dogs and walkers in the gated dog compound, and a runner or two. I appreciate sitting in the quiet expanse of lawn sometimes hearing a crow squawk. Then it’s five minutes to home.

I’m supposed to walk every day, part of the recovery, and part of any good exercise program. I need to be in some sun, also, to help with the sleeping routine. But these days we’ve had overcast until noon. So no early morning sun to order one’s sleep cycle.

Notice the walking pole I use now since I fell a month ago. Supposedly it is to keep one from falling again. I do feel shaky when I leave the house and wonder if I will fall. I feel unsteady, more uncertain than I was. That adds to the uneasiness of walking. My rhythm with the pole is part of the success of using it. And I’m doing quite well once I get started.

The hospital visit was twelve hours long. The nurses helped me feel comfortable. They were always smiling and asking what I needed. They bustled here and there through out the whole OR spreading cheer every where. I felt very safe and cared for.

I remember closing my eyes one moment and then soon afterwards, opening them. It took several tries to keep them open. Then I was glad to lie there and watch the nurses going this way and that. One sat at the computer that contained my life with Kaiser, imputing the latest information spewing out of the records of blood pressure, oxygen levels, heart beat, etc. My pressure kept dropping and them recovering.

The last nurse was a man who loved his job. He had been in industry and other managerial positions before he decided to do nursing. And he is so glad he made the choice. He always checked with me on how I was doing.

He brought me the hospital’s idea of a lunch. I didn’t eat the chicken filled rolled, just opened it up and scraped the chicken mixed with mayonnaise off with the plastic fork and ate that. There was a hunk of lettuce and two slices of cucumber which I failed to notice before. I guess they were to top the chicken. Then to end the meal I took two bites of the awful jello.

He put me in a wheel chair and down the four floors we went in the elevator and out the door to the waiting car of my driver. I told Elaine that I had a divine time and she laughed. She figured it was the anesthesia speaking. Maybe. But I still feel that way. It was a fine time.

Published by Chlele Gummer

I'm an artist, writer and author of nine children's books. Nature is my inspiration. Next project is a book of a hike with children. The pictures are created out of fabric scraps.

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