Halo, My Name Is HELEN W

Golden-hued Tie o’ the Day was kind enough to escort me  as I drove my truck for the first time since surgery. We drove out to Suzanne’s office to sit with her during her minuscule lunch hour, which lasted only about 20 minutes today. Apparently, she’s the most important person in the building, and they can’t get anything done without her,  even during her lunch hour.

The last time I drove my jalopy was June 27th– the day before my operation. My voyage today was yet another milestone in my recovery. I waited longer than you might think I needed to wait to drive it, but you have to understand my beloved Hombre. It is twenty years old. It has a manual transmission, and the clutch is not friendly. The driver’s seat has a tear in it which makes your butt sit on part of its metal frame. Plus, Hombre gives a bouncy, bumpy ride. Riding in it is like riding an earthquake.

I survived the brief ride, but my innards are pulling, and my shifting and clutch muscles ache because they haven’t been used in exactly that way for three months.

The thing about conquering the milestones in your healing is that you have to push your limits, in order to know your limits. And you can’t tell you’ve gone dangerously past your limits until you’ve already done it. By then, it’s too late to not hurt yourself. You have to learn to nudge your limits gently. So far, I’ve been lucky to not do irreparable damage when I’ve gone a bit too far. And do you know what the biggest pain about working to regain your normal movements is? After a serious surgery, your limits are not bigly at all. Baby steps is all you can take, and even baby steps sometimes injure you.

BTW Hey! Check out the halo effect on me in this photo. This is the first and last time I will be mistaken for an angel. 😇

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