Tuesday, March 14
Sleep eluded me until 07:00 – I simply was not sleepy. At seven I sent Roman a text “If I am sleeping, let me be,” so I got four hours in. I napped an hour quite easily and am a bit anxious that my energy level threatens a repeat of last night. Other than the usual mobility and typing problems, I feel good.
Wednesday, March 15
I was in and out of bed until 04:00 then I slept a sound five and a half hours, but I was still half asleep until a brief chair nap just before lunch. For the rest of the day agility – therefore typing – was better than usual. Walking was a mess. Posture made me feel like a wadded scrap of paper with toothpicks for legs. So, while I could type fairly well, sitting at the desk left my neck and shoulders screaming with pain after about an hour. I took a couple of brief naps to rest the muscles, and woke only slightly zombified; so that was progress.
Thursday, March 16
An almost exact replica of yesterday.
Friday, March 17
Another day like Wednesday except walking a bit better and typing worse.
This dialog happened with Friend.
FRIEND: You are minutes away from full recovery.
ME: How many?
FRIEND: How many what?
ME: Minutes. Three? Ten thousand?
FRIEND: All I’m saying is you are very close.
ME experiences a warmth is the region of the heart, and is distracted by other things, but on the evening stroll there were lots of moments of joy.
Saturday, March 18
This dialog happened today.
ME: So, nothing yet, you must be talking thousands of minutes.
FRIEND: I mean minutes once you’ve let go of habitually retreating to pause-like mentality.
ME: How do I do that?
FRIEND: It’s a matter of love.
ME experiences love light again, only stronger and broader than yesterday, then it also fades.
ME: I can’t hold onto it!
FRIEND: No you can’t.
On the evening stroll, joy is rampant.
FRIEND: You can give up the bean counting, too.
ME: Was all that joy stuff me changing my mental habits?
FRIEND: You’ll see.
ME: It doesn’t last very long.
FRIEND: You don’t know that.
Sunday, March 19
Limp, all day and into the evening. Could barely move, let alone walk. Not rigid and not really unpleasant. Internal as well as external. Mental as well as physical.
As the evening unfolded, the limpness of water became the flowing of honey, and while I still walked like a duck, there was some strength in the waddle.
Monday, March 20
Two strong sessions with the rower, and two really good walks in the garage.
A series of five minute naps sitting in the recliner zombified me completely, but I was able to recover in just a few minutes, and that left me feeling like I’d been visited by a miracle.
Typing is a mess. Joy is frequent, simple, and loving.