Life In The Slow Lane...
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San Diego, CA, United States
This is a commentary about the slow lane, about the slowing of time since I suffered a severe brain injury while skateboarding with my dog. This is a blog about recovery; about our '82 VW Westfalia. It's about writing, surfing, camping, married life, bleeding ulcers that make you feel old at 32; about family, friends, and my dog Artie; it's about cruising in fourth gear, getting passed by every car and learning to appreciate every second of it.

Monday, December 14, 2009

Tummy Tuck

I went into the hospital, the day of my fall, weighing a whopping 155 pounds. A month later, I left at 120 pounds. I was weak, the muscles in my arms and chest had atrophied. A nerve in my right arm was damaged from waging war with nurses and doctors and trying to fight my way out of the restraints, and I couldn't use my right arm for days.

Since I've returned home, despite no longer having any taste, or smell, I have gained 20 pounds. My appetite is stronger than it was was before head butting the sidewalk. I don't know why this is, you'd think it be the opposite but it's not. Now that taste is gone, I am eating every few hours, I am finishing my entire meal and I can't stop myself.

The other day I was changing in front of our sliding glass closet doors, sorry it's habit, and I caught a glimpse of my body from the side. The reflection showed a protruding belly at the base of a weakened, atrophied upper body. I quickly put on a tee shirt and ran away from the mirror. As I walked I looked down and saw the belly. I patted it like old men do, trying to act as if they are proud of it, that it is a sign of success. Aimee commented on it and laughed. I stopped smiling.

That day, I vowed to start a new workout regiment. We bought a big, green bouncy ball for sit-ups. I have Yoga tapes, a workout bar, a pull-up bar. I have all of the necessary equipment, if only I had the energy. Most of my days, if not in rehab are spent on the computer, trying to relearn how to write, or spent reteaching Artie how to walk on a leash, or cleaning up after Aimee. Right now, the duffle bag she calls her purse is thrown on the couch. There are papers and keys spilling out around it.

Back to the subject, doctors say my thoughts will wander, they also said my obsessions will intensify. They were right again. No wonder why they smile all of the time. They are right and rich enough to live a healthy life, free from harm. Back to the subject once again, tomorrow is the day I start my new workout regiment. I have to go order pizza now, apparently Aimee is not going to do me this one favor...

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