Today and yesterday an the day before

Or ototoi, not the spell-check corrected otto, as the Japanese language would have it. Or ereyesterday as we used to say in the dim past. Anyway, I’ve posted about these days, Keeping track and Today, and now it’s time for some revisionist history. See, today I walked into the hospital for a blood test and doctor’s appointment for the first time (on steroids I walked to my chemo place once, but that didn’t involve the waiting or the worry about finding a seat). No wheel chair. It wasn’t too hard either, very little huffing and a puffing. Then when I got home, opened the car door to the blast of the world’s humidity, I knew at once that making it to the end of the street would be a chore. I felt no stronger than I did yesterday or ereyesterday (sorry, but let’s bring back that word, huh? And it’s companion, evermorrow). So I have to reassess. It’s very probable I wasn’t all that weak in the first place, it’s just walking in humidity? Not easy. Still, I’m glad I took Wednesday and Thursday as an opportunity to rest and not do all that much. I’m sure I needed that rest and that rest probably helped me negotiate the hospital corridors with relative ease. So maybe instead of thinking of those days as set backs they were chances to pull back from the efforts that might have been pushing me to my limit. 

And today I brought out our mini stationary bike. Did ten puny minutes on it. Yeah, I’m definitely better today. I couldn’t even think of trying out the bike yesterday. Maybe it was partially mental as well. I was depressed as hell what with my wife being away most of the day. Today that wasn’t the case. So all things were going for me. Even ate more: in the hospital restaurant I finished all of the katsu, not cats you sick fuck spellcheck, of my katsudon. Katsu basically means pork cutlets, how it is usually translated, breaded thick slices of pork, I mean it’s fucking great, and when you have a don, it basically means you’re putting it in a bowl on top of rice. Like I said, I had the katsu part of it (ha-ha, motherfucker, it’s called learn spelling). I had some Onomichi ramen too, then I finished off a “soft cream” cone (ice cream from a nozzle, softer, I had thought maybe a bit lighter, kind of mistaken in that assumption) basically by myself. I am not sick to my stomach now either. So winners all around. Now the main thing is, don’t be doing your end zone dance yet, you’ve got a long ways to go. 

Oh Gob, how did that football metaphor slip out? Maybe it’s good, because it means I've revealed that somewhere in the back of my head there’s that Air Coryell offense that wants to hurl downfield to Kellen Winslow and Charlie Joiner and boom I’m better again in a few weeks. Or maybe I thought of it because I like football and football metaphors are just too prevalent, or that I read not just an hour ago an article about the only “out” non-believer in football. There’s truth in it anyway. The end zone dance when you’re not in the end zone is what it means, all that excessive sack or tackle celebration that people complained about. Means they celebrated too much on too little, or acted like they were already at the goal or crossed over, touchdown, yea! I guess that’s what it means. Anyway, be careful, don’t get carried away because of today, don’t think you’re healing faster than you are, and don’t push yourself. You’re still on your own two yard line and you have to play ground control offense. 

Sorry, sorry. I promise to stop someday.