Post-tx Pulmonary Rehab Day 2:
Though I would like recovery to be brief, it is more likely to be a
long haul. Baby steps. OK. Today's was a full rehab session, with all
activities. And though I'd like to describe my pain and weakness in
flowery ways, or perhaps just as literotically elucidate my strengths,
I'll do neither. Rather, I look around and take stock.
Today's floor class was quite crowded,
with more than a dozen people. Three of us (including myself) in
chairs, because we're too weak to be on the floor just yet; me squirming
against a heated backpad in hopes of some relief. I look around
carefully and note those ahead of me on the path, who are farther along
in recovery and doing well and spurring me forward. I see those who are
behind me on the path, still on oxygen, struggling - yet physically
stronger than I am at the moment.
Today, one participant lay
beside me on her yoga mat who is quite uniquely both ahead of and behind
me on the road to transplant. I've relied on her advice and survived -
no, knocked this out of the ballpark - because of it. I only hope
she'll take what advice I can give her about the immediate future.
Oracle-like, she revealed the outlines of my odyssey. But now I can
fill in the details for her. Thank you, Piper Beatty.
Lifting hand weights and doing leg
raises with my comrade today reminded me of the constant state of flux
we're in, where nothing can be taken for granted. Two weeks ago today I
could have written in my own chart "here today, transplanted tomorrow".
Tonight, I wish that for her.