What we did this morning for example was to get ourselves to the local Publix grocery store for almost 7:00 am sharp. We hadn't a lot of provisions to collect so we were back in the car and headed home by no later than 7:40 am. Today - as opposed to last Sunday morning after my first post-operative visit to the grocery store - I tagged along in the store, pushing the cart and getting a few items myself (Navel oranges and lemons). But by the time we were checking out, I felt I had had enough physical activity and I tore myself away to return to the car. I did of course recognize the value of the mobility.
Upon returning home I volunteered to take the empty shopping cart back to the garage for storage. This is a simple matter of descending to the ground floor by the third (east) elevator, stashing the thing, then reascending. But before reascending I sat by the pool in a chaise longue and relished the heat of the sun upon my face. Afterwards, rather than immediately return to the apartment, I decided to play the Yamaha grand piano in the Club Room on the second floor.
I stayed on the piano bench for not more than half an hour. Playing the piano is work, especially the way I customarily do it (though on this occasion I made certain not to overdo the effort). Then I sat on a lounge chair with a large cushion at my back and meditatively contemplated the glistening beach and Ocean. I was uncommonly comfortable in the chair and I relished having the entire Club Room to myself.
But my physical exercise wasn't yet over. We then drove to find the office of the lung surgeon whom I am to visit next Tuesday. While we had a general idea of his office location it took us over an hour to locate the precise spot. All the while I was walking.
Even upon our return home to the condo, I walked with my partner to the local trust office to get some cash for the weekend. Rather than crossing the street to the bank, I just sat on the cement bench at the bus stop, enjoying the sunshine.
I have however overlooked mentioning what began as the central venture today - namely, my visit (another walk) to a nearby beauty salon ("Cherise's") where I had my hair cut for the first time in over a month. I was full of anticipation for this event because I had become quite dissatisfied with the current state of my appearance. The hair cut was scheduled for 10:00 o'clock this morning. After we had returned from our grocery shopping detail I had spent the remaining time before our departure to the salon by reading or check the news. Now that I recall, I had even sent an email to the salon saying that I would like to have a mani and pedi if possible. Turns out that I have had to schedule the mani and pedi for March 26th next when I shall also return for a final haircut before our departure from Daytona Beach Shores on April 2nd.
There is but one final detail to complete the cycle of activity today. Last night around midnight - when I awoke after having gone to bed several hours earlier - I received an email from an ancient friend in Canada. He peculiarly told me that he had recently purchased "Fowler's". He quipped that it was a mistake to assume that his engineers would fathom the significance of it because they could barely read. All this left me quite uncertain. I had no idea whatsoever what or who Fowler's was. I did however run a short check on the internet and at least discovered that there was a Fowler's dictionary of modern English usage - which seemed to align with my friend's literary criticism of his employees. So I wrote and asked whether in fact my friend referred to that particular Fowlers (because for example there were other associations, not the least of which involved medical precision for proper or convenient breathing). My friend wrote back and confirmed it was indeed the dictionary allusion. What instantly intrigued me about this is that recently I have worn myself thin reading repeat versions of E. F. Benson. So in a moment of utter superfluity I bought H. W. Fowler's "Dictionary of Modern English Usage" for the princely sum of $11.99 on iBooks. I have now that resource to intrigue and alert me.
Somewhere around noon I submitted to my burgeoning fatigue and lay down on my bed for an afternoon snooze. A couple of hours later I was awoken by my iPhone ringing. It was my dear lady friend Jill from Canada. We instantly proceeded to engage in a prolonged conversation about what each of us had recently done, including more than a little detail about several past experiences. This communication brought me back into the world of activity and I have since spent the remainder of the day reading, writing and walking about the condo and the condo balcony. I can't say that my ribs are fully healed or that my stiff legs and hams have elongated but I am convinced that things are improving little by little. Now that I know I can look forward to more time lounging in the sun, I am feeling far better than before. Already I am contemplating walking upon the beach, in the shore, along with the many other tourists and inhabitants who regularly do so. At times I consider that my recovery will be more prolonged that I might prefer to imagine but naturally this does nothing to inhibite my attempts. I continue to use the aspirator to help improve my lung capacity. And coughing with a pillow held against my chest. These are raw preoccupations but clearly part of the rejuvenation. My ambition remains to join the others on the beach and in the sun. Time is ticking quickly; I hope for the best and perhaps even sudden improvement!