It has been brought to my attention that it has been two weeks since I posted a blog. I'm sure you can appreciate the lack of original material when the highlight of the week is a visit from an ex-collegiate wrestler, now physical therapist. A few days ago I thought I was going to have a "R.I.P., Baxter" blog, but the old son- of-a-gun made a liar out of us again. At the moment he is waiting for breakfast!
He had a few seizures a couple of weeks ago, and the prescribed phenobarbital has diminished his coordination. It is very difficult for him to stand, especially when he is lying on tile or hardwood floors. You should see Durelle arranging a small rug under him so he can get some traction. There have been a couple of bedtimes when it appeared for a long time that he was just not going to be able to stand and go outside. I, of course, am forbidden to BEND or LIFT so I cannot help Durelle.
I'm doing better than he is. I still can't take a step without using a walker, and I have added an opiod painkiller to my twice a day smorgasbord of pills, but, unless I stress or tire my lower back, I am reasonably comfortable. For the first two weeks the only PT was walking. Now I've added some squats to the list. With the aid of a good kitchen stool I have been able to resume some of my cooking duties. Yesterday Durelle asked me to find a use for some boneless chicken thighs she had bought, so I made some fried chicken. During mutterings of, "Never again!", she spent longer cleaning up than I did in preparation.
I visit the surgeon again for another checkup in two weeks. At that time, with fresh X-rays, he said that he would be willing to talk about driving again if only for short trips. On that note I must confess (He doesn't have my blog address.) that this week I drove the old Corvette...sorta. A neighbor has been taking it for weekly spins to keep fluids circulating and the battery charged. Unfortunately, he hasn't been parking it as precisely as is necessary in our garage. Durelle has a hard time squeezing by with a couple of sacks of groceries! So, I decided to fix it! I climbed in, started it, backed it out into the driveway, straightened it out, re-parked it and climbed out. What was remarkable about that chain of events was how utterly normal each step seemed. It remains to be seen how soon and how relevant that will be to driving the bus. Our departure date for Maine is still unknown.
I cannot end this brief dispatch without pointing out the obvious. My recovery is totally dependent upon Durelle's willingness to do both of our usual chores around the house. Plus, she handles a large assortment of "fetching" tasks that I am only beginning to do for myself.