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This week has been a turning point for me. And I’m using this day to mark an important transition.
I am declaring myself recovered. I feel free. What does that mean?
For one, I made my morning walk with John Yoo, Richard Epstein, and Troy Senik—well, at least listening to their podcast. I’ve decided that this walk is not part of a temporary routine that I began on my road to recovery, but a new stage of this time of my life. I don’t walk quite as far as I used to, nor as fast, but I do walk 30 minutes. And I still wear a hat to cover my nearly bald pate. But I feel fully myself and strong. And it’s a good time to be out, gliding through the silence, waving at other early walking souls.
After a shower, I look at myself in the mirror. Silvery feathers on my head glow back at me. I run my hand a couple of times through the unfamiliar softness. It feels good, vibrant. Soon I will walk out my front door bareheaded. No hats or scarves. And then I’ll enjoy seeing eyebrows and eyelashes in the mirror, springing up on their own.
At breakfast, I only have a small number of pills to take. No more supplements lined up on the counter with morning and night soldiers to fight off potential enemies. And then I make up my mixture of Kashi cereal and cream of wheat and almond milk, heated together in the microwave, adding pieces of fresh peach; Jerry takes a half of the peach, and I take the other half. I’m so glad that I can now eat a normal serving of almost everything. I can taste it. And it tastes so good.
Then I read posts on Ricochet. And I write, or try to, hoping to be inspired by some scrap of news or an insight. For some odd reason, my posts seem to be getting more attention. Maybe people feel sorry for me. Maybe my writing has changed. Maybe I’ve changed. Maybe it’s just my imagination. But that feels good, too.
I will work out this coming Wednesday as usual. But it will be my last time with my trainer. She’s taught me well. We’ve worked on my upper and lower body. I feel so much stronger. But it’s time to go solo. And it feels like just the right time.
This afternoon I will talk with my Torah study partner. She knows I’m doing well. Lately, we’ve found much to laugh about, usually sharing stories of our mishaps. It’s fun to talk about mistakes, tease each other, express gratitude for life. And talk Torah.
The residue of recovery lingers. Peripheral neuropathy has reduced but is still present. There’s swelling in my legs and feet, but that is going down. As if life is reminding me that I’m getting older and that even an imperfect recovery is more than enough for now. I smile at that thought.
And I enjoy a deep breath and settle into gratitude.
Soon my hair will grow out enough to qualify as a pixie cut; my eyebrows will look back at me and my eyelashes will flutter. I will graduate from my peach wine to zinfandel. I will splurge on a rich dessert. I will sleep better and more deeply.
Life is good.
[photo by Arek Adeoye at unsplash.com]Published in