I didn’t want to admit the docs knew what they were talking about when they said “a minimum of 4 to 6 weeks” for any kind of recovery and expected that I’d be back out there riding and golfing before the end of August. Well, since my seriously abused body hasn’t seen 21 in four decades that’s just not going to happen.
I tried to hit a few balls on Monday – bad idea – and set myself back a few days I think. And riding? Well it seems there was extensive muscle damage as well and until that heals (which takes a long time for us old folks) I can barely get the bike off the side stand let alone hold it up if it started to tip at a stop. That would be another bad idea.So I wait. And wait. And wait. And experience the kind of cabin fever that typically rears its ugly head in late February when the dark, cold days get to be too much and you begin to understand why they consume more vodka than water in Siberia. (Although I have recently discovered the joys of good bourbon, so that may not be such a bad thing.)
There. Now I feel better.