Fear is a Man's Best Friend

The boy looks stoned, doesn't he?

This is Cake in his high castle by the front window. Our fierce boy has an excellent view of all our visitor cats, the sun twinkling on the water and me as I head out for a walk.

In December I took half as many steps as I did in November. Some of that is due to the weather (snow, wind and rain—the cold temps didn't help), part was the damn sun not rising until after 7AM and I was exhausted from all my MRIs and eye appointments. December wasn't a great month rehab-wise.

It's a new month, new year and I'm getting back on track. No, this isn't a new year's resolution—this is reality. The longer I procrastinate, the more balance and mobility I lose. That scares the fuck outta me. This song's now in my head—Fear is a Man's Best Friend by John Cale.

Life and death are just things you do when you're bored
Say fear's a man's best friend
You add it up it brings you down

No, the lyrics don't describe where I'm at except for the fear being a man's best friend part. I watched both of my parents give up on their health and fall down into a sad abyss of helplessness. When mother was still alive, they lived at home with caretakers coming in 24/7. It was awful—a lot of grifters, lazy fucks and unskilled, untrainable fucks went through that house. There were a few good people too but they were in the minority. After mother died, Daddy went into assisted living but that didn't work out either—it was too late. The old man wasn't even a little bit self sufficient any more. He ended up in a skilled nursing home. This, this level of helplessness, is what I fear and that's what's getting me up and out the door every day.

Starting last Thursday, I've been walking around half a mile a day (with a little elliptical action thrown in). My immediate goal is to double that (today would be a good day for this)—get back to where I was at in November. 

I can do this!