The Conductor and the Idiot

Progress continues on most fronts. My weight is constant between 165 and 170--that is fine with me. I walk an hour a day, jog a mile 3 times a week, and lift weights when I'm in the mood which is not often enough. It is the little things that continue to remind me that I'm getting better. When I was driving to Chicago a couple of weeks ago to pick up Diane at Midway Airport, I passed another milestone and didn't even know it. I was on Interstate 80 listening to Leonard Bernstein's "West Side Story" when a truck driver drove by my car and gave me a funny look. It was then that I realized I WAS CONDUCTING AGAIN. I haven't done this since we drove to Florida in February 2010. I do this from time to time. I drive the car and "air conduct" an imaginary orchestra/symphony. I've been doing this for years, but this is the first time since my bout with cancer that I've allowed myself to forget for a moment and just get caught up in a different positive moment. It's another positive sign.

The sun is finally out which means I'm out in the yard where I'm happiest. I'm proud to report there are no weeds in my yard--not 10, not 5, but 0 as I write this. Not sure where this particular display of anal behavior emanates, but I did yard work to earn money for college.

As for the "Idiot" referred to in the title of this posting, I had a little incident last week that reminded me that I will probably always be recovering. Diane was visiting friends, and I had had a long productive day in the yard after which I came in, took a shower, and realized I was sore. It has been a couple of months since I tried taking an Advil and heck I can eat anything, so surely I can swallow a couple of Advils. It was 6 p.m., and I looked in the mirror, got a glass of water, got an Advil, told myself I can do this, and swallowed the Advil--not exactly.

I again looked in the mirror and this time, I could see the concern in my face. Now I am not going to die when this happens, and I'm not sure why as I can continue to breathe. However, it is a scary moment as my throat becomes constricted and nothing can get down where it is supposed to go. I tried to expectorate it--no go. Next, I hit myself in the back--no go. I got down on my hands and knees in front of the toilet and tried to throw up--no go. In a moment of desperation, I attempted to drink water but it wouldn't go anywhere as the damn Advil was blocking my throat passage. Therefore, the water simply ended up in the sink. What the hell was I going to do? The answer was simple--not much. I sat down on the bed and waited for the little pill to dissolve which it did. I had this experience a couple of months ago and assumed that by now I could swallow a damn pill but obviously, I was wrong. Sometimes we are our own worst enemy. Why idiot? Simple, I should have waited until Diane was in the house to give me a hard smack on the back which worked previously when this happened. Oh well, live and learn.