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  • Mike Woods

Toddler-like

Day 19 - Regressive Tendencies

In some ways the past 18 days are like watching a time-lapse movie of my toddler days as there is major accomplishment almost every day. (Ignoring the fact that I carry around my cough pillow like a cherished stuffed toy).

Toddler Milestones I have accomplished the last 18 days:

Day 3 - First stand up by myself.

Since what was coursing through my veins was half blood, half anesthesia and pain killers I thought this was quite an accomplishment to be upright.

Day 4 - First steps.

My world expanded from just my room to what the hallway outside of it looked like - a great day.

Day 6 - First steps without my oxygen tank coming with.

Okay this was humbling.

Day 8 - First shower.

This often promised, much anticipated small joy almost didn’t happen. Hospital maintenance was paged – stat! and ceiling tiles removed and a faulty check valve was repaired to restore the shower in my room to working order.

Day 11 - First day of rehab.

(carries the excitement of the first day of elementary school in that you wonder who will be in your class, what teacher you got, having a transport aide like a bus driver to bring you to your new life, etc,)

Day 17 – First bike ride.

The hopeful sign here was the 79 year old who basically lapped me on our electronic tour. I have a lot of room to the upside of my health.

Day 18 – I go in to a restaurant with Karen

(lately she just goes in to pick up a preorder leaving me in the car with the window cracked.

Day 25 – This toddler gets to drive again.

I am also exhibiting other toddler traits such as:

Oversharing:

Especially when it comes to the frequency of flatulence patterns and consistency of bowel movements. I keep telling Karen that I am only responding to a direct question from a care giver.

I also have to fight back the urge to tell everyone that I meet that I just had open heart surgery.

Becoming emotional for no obvious reason:

Now that I am home and someone puts my water glass on the wrong side of my bed I wonder if they “really” care about me.

When people ask me about my caregivers I still can’t talk about them without getting weepy.

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