The long and short of the #5week Recovery Report is that the days are as good as it gets, with me moving about comfortably enough. I even managed a 400m walk without the moonboot in False Bay, hip-deep in icy, 13 Degrees Celsius ocean water, as well as regular ambles along the Vlei Circuit. The nights, however, continue to suck, with the pain from the scapula and ribs rarely allowing more than 5-6hrs of sleep.
In a way, this is like spending time with the future, 95 year-old Jacques. He does not sleep much at night, dodders about quite harmlessly on crutches, counts a 3km walk as a proper exercise session, and forgets to take his tablets most of the time. He does turn into a grumpy geezer every now and then when he’s trying to achieve something simple (like fixing a bicycle tyre or carrying two espressos) with only one working arm and leg. Future Jacques will probably need adult diapers as well, but I hope this incidental – if rather fortuitous – meeting will make me more accepting and less judgemental of him when our paths cross again in 40 years’ time. At heart, he’s a good dude
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