Alive and Sort of Kicking

It's amazing how busy one becomes when one is in a place meant for rest and rehab.  It's the story of my life. Physical Therapy in the a.m., Occupational Therapy in the p.m., a constant parade of nurses taking blood pressures and oxygen levels, meals (consisting of some items that occasionally but rarely resemble real food), visit from doctor, visit from cheery lady who wants me to "socialize" with the other patients (no, thanks), and really no rest at all.   My back is feeling much better, meaning that I'm more than ever wanting to get out of here.

With a little nudge, I could go into a full-blown depression.  I won't let it happen. All I really want to do is get up to Afton and resume my wonderful life there, meet my wondrous and varied visitors, and hang with the folks who have been so kind as to take over for me in my absence.  And, I want to drive my car!  Of everything, I think driving is what I miss the most.  I miss the corn fields and the cows.  I miss Route 66, although I'm only a few miles off of it here.  The computer keeps me in touch with what's going on, but that's not enough for me.

The best times I have here at the rehab place are when I have visitors.  I wish I had visitors every hour of every day.  I have several friends who have been faithful visitors, and seeing their faces at my door makes my heart sing.  And then there's Ron M. who, as I've said before, is the best kind of friend in the world.  My gosh, he even did my laundry for me today!  That's above and beyond the call of duty. He brings me food (the edible kind, not the kind they serve here).  He brings my mail.  He takes me on "wheelchair walks" around the halls of this huge place.  I don't know how I'll ever repay him for his constant attentiveness and care.

Tomorrow I am getting a pedicure and "relearning how to take a shower".  'Scuse me?  I've been doing that for over 60 years.  I think I can figure it out for myself.   That's what they mean by Occupational Therapy, or learning how to live well despite a body part going wacko (in my case, my back) and not behaving properly.  Tomorrow I'll fight for my right to take a shower without help, and I will win the fight.

I know this blog isn't the place for ramblings like this, having nothing to do with Route 66 or Afton or anything else, but I felt the need to vent.  I've been off the pain pills for a couple of days now, so it isn't a drug-induced ramble.   Just telling friends how I feel at the moment....

So, if any of you are in the general Tulsa area, consider coming for a visit.   I'll probably be here for at least another week and I'd love to do some entertaining while I'm "rehabilitating".