I Can Count the Days on My Fingers

When I wrote that title I was only thinking of the fact that I’m now into single digits in my countdown to getting out of this halo. Then it struck me:
I can use my hands to count, just like a child. And I’m thankful.

A lot of friends have expressed how happy they are that I’m ok, how serious an injury it is and how lucky I am. I know that last thought very well. Spend a few months stuck living inside one of these, living inside period, and you have a lot of time to think a lot of thoughts. I’ve kept them positive and I intend to keep on doing that.

Positive thoughts only please, there’s more than enough negativity in the world and I prefer to see smiles. There’s another double thought for you too… as I’ve relaxed some and as my muscle tone has diminished, the pin sites develop a kind of sag. The nurse refers to them as smiles so I now have a 3-way smile! Even if I frown the smiles win.

Well, ok… to be fair not all the thoughts are positive. My sense of humour has found a few dark spots to explore and try to brighten them, not always with success. Still, the smiles win!

It is summer now, I love summer. A lot. Just never would have picked it as a time to wear a [synthetic] sheepskin vest. The weather has turned really hot here in Toronto and the house doesn’t have central air so I’m stuck in my little office (with a window air conditioner) until I get sprung free. Sleeping with just a fan is a little challenging.

Single digits now… 8 more sleeps, 9 days.

Andrea had my “cape” out on the line yesterday drying from my last shower and I noticed it start to rain. I went out to get it off line and loved the feeling of the rain on my skin (yes, there it is again. I’m thankful). So I wrapped it around me, stayed on the back deck, and enjoyed the feeling of it all.

And yes, I have still have hair. That will be gone soon too!

In the rain, no singing though

So there you have have it. Getting down to a series of “lasts” that will I’m sure lead to a series of new firsts.

The first of the lasts is one my daughter Kayla wrote on my calendar when she was here on Sunday:

Time to lose the Sputnik look

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