Cane’t stop me now

It’s a beautiful day today. I am sitting out on our patio, soaking in a plethora of wavelengths of electromagnetic radiation from that great golden orb God uses to power this earth. I am hoping to get my body to generate some vitamin D to counter some of the pain killer induced fog gumming up my mental mechanisms. Laying around is definitely not good for me mentally. My intuition tells me I ought to try and start weaning myself off this stuff, but the nurse who visited me today stated that I should be worried if I am not winding down the pain killers when I am three weeks from my surgery. I am six days in. So we shall see.

I really like the physical therapist assigned to my home care. He is a father of seven, which in and of itself leads to some pretty interesting conversation. He is positive and encourages my progress. Since my leg is stiff, swollen, and generally uncooperative, it is no easy task to move it around and regenerate some of the flexibility necessary for normal function. But I am working on it and, according to him, making good progress.

I have been getting around, when necessary, with a walker. I balked at this at first, because I did not desire that geezer-like a persona in front of the kids and my smoking’ hot wife. But any notion of getting out of bed necessitated my rejection of this attitude towards this particular mode of transport. Yesterday, however, brought with it an important advancement along this path of progress toward moving from here to there. My PT directed me to use a cane.

My children’s great grandfather, Lonnie Mattingly Senior, left a stylish bamboo cane in the trunk of the car that was his and eventually belonged to my son, Jordan, and it is this cane that I chose to use instead of a more utilitarian aluminum cane. It adds a bit of style to this humbling task of walking with assistance. And when flourished properly, adds some class to my outfit comprised of pressure stockings and shorts. I also hope that I will absorb some of the toughness and class exhibited by that World War II vet. And so I say to you bum knee, you cane’t stop me now.