I haven’t written anything recently because I am recovering from foot surgery and find typing while my foot is higher than my heart inconvenient. In retirement it is good to have a hobby, but I am determined not to make surgery mine. I am an awful patient. Oh, I do what I am told (by doctor and wife) but I don’t like it, and I find myself regularly crawling out of my skin with boredom and lack of mobility. It speaks to my basic character. I have no patience, especially with myself. Part of my difficulty this time is that I also suffer neuropathy in both my feet, so I don’t even feel like I have had anything done to my foot. No pain. No discomfort (other than already mentioned) and no negative sensation other than normal.

Now, when I talk to other people recovering from surgery, I am adamant that they be kind to themselves and take as much time as needed to recover. I advise them not to stress, but just to do whatever is necessary to heal. This is good advice – for everyone else. But then, I always know what is best for everyone else while remaining essentially clueless about myself. It is a gift.

What I know in my mind, believe in my soul, and feel deeply in my heart often applies to others, but not to self. No one is harder on me than me. No one else ever gives me a hard time for taking time for myself for self-care. My wife is constantly asking me to take better care of myself, to not give myself such a hard time.

But I was raised in a good old Midwestern single-parent, farm traditioned, Protestant work-ethic household. I, at 68 years of age, still hear my mother’s sage advice: “Suffer in silence.” “Pull yourself up by your bootstraps and get moving.” “Don’t let your pain become anyone else’s problem.” And my beloved grandmother, Dortie: “The cows could care less how you feel.” “The quicker you get moving, the quicker you’ll feel better.” “You’ll get plenty of rest when you die.” Jesus wept.

So, I escaped the bedroom just long enough to come to my computer to bitch, moan, whine, whimper, vent, bluster, blow, and complain. thanks for listening. Now I return to ice, to elevate, and to stew. God bless you all. Thanks be to God.