A walk in my socks

I don't know how to describe how I'm feeling these days. Uncomfortable, rather than in tons of pain. Can't get a position to sit or lie in that doesn't make me antsy. So much pressure in my rib cage that I begin to feel as though I can't breathe and have to take an Atavan. Back aches a lot, and my spine feels like rubber. Still choking on food and talking in a weak whisper, which really does add to my overall feeling of powerlessness.

The good news is that some infinitesimal movements are returning to my left leg; don't know what to expect there, but the physiotherapist keeps standing me up and today I took a few meager steps with a walker. The left leg really doesn't do much except feel numb. Exhausting. Now the wait is on to get me a bed in a rehab hospital -- could be days or weeks before that happens -- which will be either Bridgepoint Health or Providence.

When I'm going somewhere on a stretcher in an elevator, I find myself mesmerized by folks who get in on their own two legs, coats and boots on, Subway sandwich in a bag or a Tim's coffee in their hands, ready to start or end their day. They're just going to walk out of here, I think to myself, and go somewhere all by themselves. Outside in the air, of their own volition. It seems the most exotic concept, and the envy I feel is hard to stuff down.

I think part of my restlessness comes from tamping down a reserve of coiled energy that simply wants to get me up and onto my feet and the hell out of this joint. It's awful.

Pollyanna moments:
• Lindor chocolates
• Cyclamen, red tulips, baby daffs, irises and white lilies
• Mom's lentil soup.