Annual Update

One year ago right now, I was strung out on pain killers with a Achilles tendon that had been sliced from my heel bone and a sheared bone spur extracted from the interior of the cord.  Since the tendon was yanked off to the side, Doc thought it was prime time to grind the heel bone to perfection.  He then literally nailed the tendon back in place and I experienced pain that could not be tuned out.  Bigger and better doses got me through the tough days and I literally was bedridden with nothing to do.  Stir crazy was an understatement.  Being task oriented and self diagnosed with OCD, I struggled with all the thumb twiddling. With the help from a gracious friend, I created this blog that provided an outlet to occupy all the idle time.

Broken

Beside you, our connection was virtually telepathic. We need not waste words since we could share an entire conversation without making a sound.  Time spent together was never taken for granted, it was simply sequential pieces along the timeline of life that we enjoyed being side by side.  The thought of you not being around was too distant, too far-fetched, too ridiculous. But, it happened.

Butterfly Wings

"What's that?"  I asked myself while detecting a slight tickle at the back of my throat.  I tilt my head in self-evaluation and administer tests of swallowing and open mouth breathing. "Guess it was nothing," I shrug and continue through the day ignoring any further signs.

Moustache Unplugged #25

hehehe...undetected, I take the opportunity to work on my letter...

Dear Mr. Self-Important,

Remember me?  After packing out a rock sling, a steel digging bar and a rake for nearly 1.5 miles on a rocky trail, you, from the comfort of the trail head's parking lot, rudely accosted me.

Stick with It

"Go over, get behind her and drive her down to join the group," the father told his daughter while pointing across a grassy ravine to a lone cow doing a poor job of trying to hide from the commotion.

"Okay!" said the excited 11 year old as she stomped on the Gator's gas pedal, still learning how to drive the 4 wheel drive machine that looks much like a golf cart on steroids.  She sped off, long blond hair flailing in the wind, as dad worried she would crash in a hidden washout.

Moustache Unplugged #24

hehehe...I'll seize the moment to work on my letter....

Dear CDOT,

H-O-L-Y      C-R-A-P!

I've kept quiet, biting my tongue while seething amongst 6 miles of parked cars on I-70 this summer, but now must release some pressure because your daftness is REALLY making my whiskers violently twitch.

Cleared

"Just cool your jets...you're doing this to yourself," stated my surgeon as I honestly admitted my Achilles was still not feeling 100%. "The MRI shows no tears or detachment, just inflammation from an angry tendon."

"Cool my jets?  Heck, there's only a sputtering candle flame! And screw that angry tendon, it's a wuss that is really interfering in my life," I replied.

So, with the wave of the computer mouse and a simple left click, the doctor's electronic signature cleared me to resume living life.