Chasing Foxes


So, this was the week I finally, finally, got my head wrapped around everything that’s about to happen. It all snapped into focus and it’s not going to be that bad.

Oh, it’s going to suck, big time. Both of my dental and cancer surgeries are going to happen within a few days of each other. There may not be any rest for the weary, but there will be a lot of Percocet.

I’ll be in the hospital for five or six days, and I won’t be able to speak all that well for about a week or so afterwards. A huge part of my recovery is going to be retraining the muscles in my mouth with a speech therapist so that I can speak the way I do now.

I met with her on Monday so she would have a baseline to work from. Turns out I can say “Aaaahhh!!!” for a minute and twenty seven seconds without stopping.

Sing it, cuz.

Sing it, cuz.

And that I can fit three fingers, vertically, into my mouth.

Please don’t judge me on that.

I also met my physical therapist since this surgery also involves my neck and shoulder muscles. It’s really important to make sure those muscles are strong after the surgery, and there’s a series of exercises I’ll need to do while I’m recovering just to keep everything loose and moving and grooving.

So, I did them with a 5 iron that made me look like I was a member of my high school color guard while he took notes and determined his baseline for yours truly. He also checked my strength and resistance with the golf club.

“Wow. Good. You’re strong. You’ll be fine.”

And the chest x-ray is clear. So is the EKG.

I’m just glad I passed both of them without putting three fingers into my mouth.

Or a 5 iron.

Vertically, of course.


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