I did a brief recollection before I began typing… the last time I was outside was Wednesday night, walking from Eric’s car to my back door, coming home from surgery. Since then, I have been confined to quarters, patiently (or not so patiently) waiting for my incisions to heal and for the pain to lessen. I haven’t been bedbound–my doctor’s nurse told me explicitly not to stay in bed ’round the clock while I recovered–but I haven’t been outside until this morning.
I may have gone outside sooner, were it not for the foot of snow that fell Friday. Even at a very slow walking pace, I’m not sure of my footing, and the likelihood of falling outside in the snow just made a trip outside too dangerous. We had planned to go to church yesterday, especially for the Mid-Year Meeting after the 11 a.m. service, but the meeting was postponed because of the weather. I doubt there would have been a quorum. So I stayed home with Steph, who has also been feeling rotten–especially her throat and nose.
This morning, I took the first bold steps out the door. We needed to cash some checks, so I took the bus downtown to the credit union. It was good to see the scenery roll by outside, good to hear the loudspeaker on the COTA bus ("Next stop Summit and 5th, followed by Summit and Detroit."), and good to feel fresh air.
Once I got to the credit union, I realized I had arrived downtown too early. The credit union didn’t open until 9, and I had hurried to make sure I was downtown by 8:30, which I thought was the opening time. I put the intervening time to good use, by walking around downtown a few blocks, walking at a much slower pace than usual, and slowing down to baby steps wherever I saw accumulations of ice and snow on the walk. (My walk is definitely improving. I posted on Facebook just after the surgery that I was walking like an old lady. Now I’m doing the post-vasectomy walk.)
And I ultimately overdid it. I had a 40-minute wait until the next bus which would drop me across the street from my house, so I elected to take a High Street bus and then walk the 3+ blocks, mostly uphill, from High to our back door. I didn’t have to stop to rest, although I did have to make a conscious effort to catch my breath. Never has Olentangy Street seemed so long and so steep. The only thing I carried was a bag of bagels from Dunkin Donuts. When I walked in the living room, Steph took one look at me and knew that I’d attempted too much in the way of exertion.
That doesn’t happen to me very often.