Time, the great healer

On the regrettable occasion of distress or disappointment it is not uncommon to hear from well-meaning friends that Time heals all, like the hounds of spring on the winter trace of misfortune. Indeed it appears to be true based upon my own recent dilemmas.  Yet for one such as I who suffers acute impatience the relieving process is far from speedy. I must accordingly persist in tackling what trifling details are otherwise necessary in the meantime to ensure that the ultimate concomitant of Nature's munificence is realized.  The thesis is thus that Time does not act entirely on its own, that we mustn't become delinquent in the performance of our personal duties.

What exactly constitutes one's own obligations is usually clear to even the most undiscerning mind.  Like anything else bordering upon the commonplace, its rigour though blunt is plain and clear.  Just as the fledgling chick must face the prospect of flight from the nest, it is a reminder that nothing happens completely on its own and without commitment.  Luckily for me I have always relished the advantage of a small degree of exercise, whether swimming, cycling or walking.  I cannot in earnest say that I have ever risen to the level of an athlete in the performance of these gestures but nonetheless my fulfillment has been repeated and constant.

My late father (after whom I am discovering increased similarity) was a military man, a man dedicated to the strictures of propriety and conduct, not the least of which was to stand up straight, shoulders back. My model of this desire has always dwindled because I haven't square shoulders but instead am more inclined to appear as round-shouldered (something I am certain forever disappointed my father). It is but a small concession when one is down to preserve the hope of standing up straight.  Currently my broken ribs contribute to endless back stiffness and related pain (which however I seek to diminish every six hours, three times per day, with Tylenol Arthritis 650 gm).  I acknowledge this hardly supports the unblemished evaluation of Time as a healer but it shall remain as my posture at least for the time being.  Perhaps my only claim to endurance is my ritual use of the Voldyne 5000 breathing device (an Incentive Spirometer) which I confess I have some trouble using in the strictly recommended manner (that is, I have trouble holding my breath as long as suggested).

For now I wander like a caged animal upon our condominium balcony (albeit with a measure of smug satisfaction that I am applying my weak muscles), greedily eyeing the interlopers on the beach walking on the Ocean shore.  How I long for the day when I too can treat myself to that iconic pleasure once again. What remains here is a mere 4 weeks.  Therein lies my ambition.