About a
month ago, maybe a little more, I fell while taking a little hike on a local
trail. There I was, lying flat on my back in a forest clearing, without any
stumps or bushes near with which I could haul myself up. I couldn’t get up.
Nirmala was there with me, but she couldn’t get me upright either. I tried to
scoot over to the nearest stump to no avail; my muscles simply weren’t strong
enough. I attempted a sort of wiggle dance to worm me over to some source of
support, but could hardly move an inch. The nearest stump, about three feet
away, became a last straw just beyond a drowning man’s reach. After a while, we
both were exhausted. I just lay there.
After a
while, two hikers approached. “Do you need any help?” one of them asked, a thin
woman less than half my age. “Yes, Yes!,” I replied. Before I knew it, I was
upright again, thanking the women who soon disappeared into the forest,
accompanied by an overpowering smell of marijuana.
Although I
almost lost my balance on several occasions since, that was the last time I fell.
If I did fall again, would I be able to get up? Probably, but I don’t want to find out.
In other words, I’ve made considerable progress in the past month: I walk better and talk louder--my wife can now hear me---my facial expression is more expressive. Best of all, I get up from a chair faster...
Not so
fast! I just came back from an hour’s
walk with Nirmala; I didn’t do very well. I plopped along from bench to bench
like a bent Neanderthal. (The latter with P.D. probably would have been
thankful that there were no chairs in their day.)
Guess Tom
wasn’t (re)built in a day!
In general,
things are looking up.
I'm glad that your health is getting better. 😊💕
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