Week 8, post-operation, Bruno is home; his sheer presence giving me a joyful boost in confidence with my wounded wing. For starters, I can carry and cuddle him close!
Unlike in late January, when I could hardly lift him, leash him up, put his coat on, now I am able to fully engage my wing in his care.
Encouraged, I attempted pulling on, and buckling my jeans...
Mommy! This is a milestone for you! Summie exclaimed.
Indeed. I am so pleased, I don't take my jeans off for the rest of the week.
Keep on keeping on- my therapist in Singapore kindly said to me.
I keep on and on. I wonder if the rehabilitation work is timely, in the face of death and loss.
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| photo credit- A. Huang |
Last night we had dinner with K. Once seated, Bruno curled up in my lap, hanging his head over my good arm. Without thinking, I reached for the wine glass with my bad wing. With some effort, I managed to bend my elbow enough, to drink. I practised this motion throughout the evening- bend, extend, bend, extend, drink, drink, drink.
Another milestone!
About 9 weeks ago, I sat very still in a room with three doctors, listening to doom. One of the things said to me, was the reality of never being able to touch my face again.
This morning, I tried the unimaginable.
I can touch my face! I told Jon. I can kind of touch my face!
I played with gestures, articulating my fingers.
I managed to scoop my hair back, touch the sides of my head.
Baby, he said excitedly. As soon as you feel stronger, you must get back on a horse! It'll be good for you, for your healing!
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| photo credit- HYL |
I tried arranging my hands in prayer.
It wasn't as easy to do. My hand lacks the strength for pronating, I can't yet bend my elbow deeper to draw my hands to my heart.
I'll just keep on, keeping on. Besides, now I have a formidable ally in Heaven!
Popo? Please hear my prayer.
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| photo credit- Cousin B |
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