If cancer is a bitch . . .

. . . then paralysis is a bastard.

I cannot begin to convey how frustrating it is to have lost the ability to walk. To lose command of an activity that has been second nature for 50 years is unfathomable. While it was nice to awaken at home to familiar surroundings this morning, it also served to underscore that something is terribly wrong as I lay motionless on my back, staring at the ceiling.

I am impatient by nature, and I do not have it in me to abide by limbs that are unresponsive to commands. While I have noticed slow progress in strength and coordination since I first logrolled out of bed on Monday, I am far from satisfied. The neurosurgeons have predicted that I will continue to improve for another couple of weeks. So given that the progress window is expected to close sometime around New Year’s Day, I’ve got a lot of work to do between now and when the party hats come out. Time to pick up the pace.

Thanks to all for your encouragement – sometimes that’s what enables me to put one foot in front of the other.