August Starts Good

First of August walking through Menards on Sunday morning working on things from the ‘things we can do’ list and some things that aren’t even on the list I again am struck by my progress. Walking through Menard’s again, only a dream just a few weeks ago and now here I am wandering the aisles aimlessly as always without so much as a stick to hold me up. My mobility and overall comfort level seems to be improving on a daily basis now. Sensation in my left leg has changed considerably. While still a very strange feeling it no longer has the fatigue and ache at the bone level it had. I’ll enjoy it while I can have it.
August 2, 2010
A guy just passed me on one of those homo ninja motorcycles, the kind where you have to stick your butt up in the air and put your chin down behind the handlebars, kind of in a crouching position with the big fat boy tire on the back and the reeeeep, yaaaahmaaah haulll sound, the guy just passed me standing up on it, and the say I’m terminal, holy cow. Dog days continue in this hottest of hot summers, with air so humid you breathe by cutting a cubic foot out and wringing the water out. I mean it is humid. Our weekend included entertainment by an Elvis impersonator and biographer. When on key you could close your eyes and almost envision an Elvis impersonator. I went to Vanessa’s gym event, an open house of sorts and she showed me her routine. After a few years she is often mistaken for my niece. The program works.
I removed a door in the house. Making interior doors work is on the ‘things we can do’ list and in this heat working in the AC makes a lot of sense. After removing the unit I horsed around a few hours in hopes reinstalling would be a walk in the park and trying to do it the wrong way for lack of sense. Finding that not to be the case I retired for the evening and a wonderful time with Van. Sunday I awoke a little later than usual. Before I got up in my half sleep one of the many who occupy space in my head said ‘Wow, at last, you’re over it’. Another replied ‘at last, and with only one treatment.’ Then the fog of slumber rolled off of me entirely and I laid in the reality that for the first time in my life I have a sickness I am not getting over, and I am in my eighth month since diagnosis, and perhaps my second or third year or more since contracting the dog gone thing.