This week has been a truly significant period in my recovery. I am completely amazed by the life-changing difference it makes to have my driver's license back. The freedom to, potentially, "go anywhere – do anything" is a seductive idea. In practice, though, it's another opportunity for my physical limitations to assert themselves.
Not that my big solo outing with the trike yesterday was anything but glorious (I didn't even mind the cold and the fog) but it was tempered by my absolute need to go to bed the instant I was done.
I started aquatic therapy this past week and after an hour in the pool enjoying near weightlessness (I've always been unusually buoyant) I climbed the steps to dry land and was temporarily unable to take even a single step. A similar thing happened yesterday. After ten miles on the trike, I could barely stand up when I reached the car.
Last night Lisa and I discussed a recent realization of hers. With this new-found freedom of mine, she suddenly doesn't feel the pressure to make our every spare moment together (every weekend) into a recreational activity for me.
It makes me so happy to hear her talking about the time she now hopes to devote to her garden, her artwork and guilt-free relaxation. It's been a long-time coming and if anyone deserves a break, it's her.