"...I could cry for the time I've wasted, but it's a waste of time and tears..." --Willie Nelson

 See that nurses' station down there? It's the distance from my room in rehab. Two weeks ago, I would not have been able to manage getting there without a walker, moving in very slow motion. Today I can stride right down almost as per normal. Getting there is half the battle, right?

 As big a hassle as all this has been, I can't get too bent out of shape because it's self-created. My doctor told me nearly a decade ago I had fatty liver disease. Dumb damn me decided I was among The Chosen Few who'd never pay a price. But heeeeeere we are.

 This facility treats a few old drunks like me. But most of those in my therapy groups can't help where they are or why. No one volunteers for MS, a stroke or a crushed hip from some wreck. While some can lift light weights and do the stretching etc., others sit in their wheelchair basically unable to participate except an occasional gesture. Sometimes the mind has remained astute but the body won't function -- a situation I was facing. But my situation has been temporary while theirs is not. Throw diabetes and cancer on that steaming pile and the fact these folks show up at all is a freaking miracle.

 All this has me more sensitive to the various charities and other opportunities we have to help these folks, to find cures and otherwise extend even what little fortune we have into providing some improvement. They and their loved ones are self-protective because they have to be. Stepping into that circle to help when you can seems only right, not only healthwise but in any case to offer a leg up.

 Two weeks in a room mostly by myself has been mostly a blessing. There's been some good laughs and conversation with nurses, doctors and others of course. The food's been generally good in both places and really -- what can you do but joke when you're standing there naked in front of four nurses doing various things to/with your body? God bless these folks.

  ...but all this has made me more protective of what very few things I can control anymore. I have no personal space. I live on a couch in the den and in a situation that changes and yet doesn't change by the day. Going back to it will be a bigger challenge than it was in a lot of ways. My short-term solution is to obtain and maintain a small lime tree and set up hummingbird feeders for the season. I can manage it because it's a small area with not a lot of work involved. It's a start.

 Thanks to each of you for your kind words and encouragement. It's tremendously appreciated.

 "...I've got a long list of real good reasons for all the things I've done..."