Recovery.

Cecily and I enjoyed a nice visit from my mom and Karen on Monday – it was good to see them and for them to see me. My first physical therapy session began just as they arrived. It was the first time up off my back since I deplaned at LAX on Friday.

With the help of a walker, I walked out of the hospital room and then back in again. This seemed to be a big accomplishment. Hooray. That was it for Monday. On Tuesday I walked 150 feet, again with the walker. The surgeons were impressed. Hip Hip Hooray. This morning I walked another 150 feet, and then once around the floor this afternoon (click on action-packed video below).



The neurosurgeons seem genuinely surprised and pleased at the progress I’ve made since arriving on Friday paralyzed from the waist down. It’s nice to know I’ve exceeded their expectations at this point. They’ve stated several times that despite the need to deal with spinal cord compression quickly, I made the right decision to get on the plane and head for home. Here’s a photo of the six-inch incision in my back, neatly stapled up.


The plan at the moment is to discharge me from the hospital tomorrow (Thursday). Given my progress on the ambulatory front, the originally planned two- week layover at a physical therapy facility has been deemed unnecessary – I get to go straight home! However, the Foley catheter (that drains my bladder) will remain in place for another couple of weeks. It seems that my bladder was filled to three times its normal capacity during this ordeal, so the urologists want to give it a chance to recover before allowing it to fill again. The things we take for granted . . .

This medical odyssey is certainly filled with many characters. Chief among them is an Indian internist who grew up in Thailand and does spot-on impressions of Stevie Wonder and Ray Charles. Between standup routines he is one of the most vocal advocates I have.

The question persists as to how the spinal tumor that caused all this commotion was not detected, and how we are going to treat what remains of it. But we’ll leave that for another day . . .

I’m going to try for another walk around the floor later this evening. I swear I’m gonna sprint for the exit if I get the chance.

And from somewhere within this week’s fog of paralysis and opiates, Paul’s Second Law has emerged: Although you’re not supposed to count your chickens before they hatch, eating them before they hatch is perfectly acceptable.