I You And Everyone We

About a week ago, I started having very active, busy days. After the first two, I thought I was going to pay for all that activity with a couple of days’ reclining glamorously, icepack to fevered brow, but no. I got up a third day in a row and kicked more ass, mostly my own. It was peculiar, yet encouraging. The orthopedic surgeon, who is always right about everything, says that three months after total hip replacement surgery, patients suddenly feel a lot better. Three months is still a couple of weeks ahead of me, but in the past week, I started having encouraging firsts, like that I could stand up and step sideways without waiting for a stabbing pain to pass. Yay! Less stabbing pain! Yesterday’s first was dragging out my exercise mat and stretching out. Stretching, for me, is the habit of a lifetime. I folded myself in thirds and declared victory. This pose has not been relaxing and comfortable – when it was even possible – for about four years.

Mantra: "Exercise is always the answer."

Mantra: “Exercise is always the answer.”

I’ve been working in the same PT studio for years, with the same therapists and aids, which is a nice way of saying I have lots of invigorating problems. One of the physical therapists I worked with recently is a woman about my age. Talking with her while she twists me into a pretzel is easy, so I ask all kinds of questions as I gasp for breath. I mentioned that after the first hip surgery, I felt so much better I hardly noticed I never had two good hips at the same time and that it was hard to exercise. She said, “Now you have two hips you can strengthen simultaneously, if you work at it.” You can bet my reconstructed ass I will.

The Lemon Flower Is Sweet

Yesterday, we took the train to New York to meet with an orthopedic surgeon. The surgeon gets my jokes, which is way dreamy, but the trip was exhausting, so we spent this afternoon riding bikes around Sandy Hook, minutes ahead of splashy-bangy weather. And there were clams.