OCTOBER 15

This would be another minor victory-day – perhaps bored or frustrated, I managed to stand at the sink and shave myself. Man, that reads so wimpily, but believe me, ANY “step” forward is significant. Small steps add up to some distance and I clearly have a long way to go.

Yesterday seemed 3 to 4 times as long as any other day recently, because it marked two weeks. I must have thought of it 1000 times, and that made it slow down.

Today I am welcoming a visitor and have to admit some worry. It sure would be impolite to conk out.

I haven’t mentioned it but my dreams have become more usual. Not so vivid. Less imaginative. (I had had a run of dreams from carrying my drunk Dad on my back around Philadelphia, to hanging out with Brad Pitt, to being on the radio and being really amusing.) It must have been either the trauma or the drugs, or both. I am down to one antibiotic which I do feel when I take it – sort of an internal burn – not a great description, but as close as I can come, and my half dose pain killers. Actually the foot isn’t the issue as much as my other joints and my butt which very much minds sitting all day. Today I am trying to spend hours on the Aeron chair, since it is ventilated and distributes my weight better than a more plush one would. But I am worn. My years of push-ups and other exercises are so far behind that I am turning to flab.