Ah, where to start?
Riding Gypsy out to the top ring, past the pond with the ducks, the Killdeers calling, and inhaling the fresh spring scents into my nostrils, I realize that this is the prize that Tom kept urging me to “keep my eye on.” In fact, we had the chance to go riding together on Sunday. As we sat together on horseback next to the pond, the blue sky and warm sun on our faces, I felt truly content. Tom said, “I love the smell of spring.” I agreed. I haven’t smelled unadulterated spring from horseback in a couple years now; always the smells were soured by the smell of oxygen tubing. This was amazingly special and momentous, and yet… so natural.
Which led to a further thought: have these lungs ever cantered outside on a horse in springtime before? I wondered this as we clipped along, Gypsy stretching out, her eye on the horizon. It seems, I think, that these lungs take quite naturally to this horseback riding gig. And then I wondered if these could be the lungs of a jockey? I will probably never know the answer to that question because that information is kept anonymous in Canada… but it makes you wonder… a jockey would be a small man: so a good size match for me…
In any event, riding outdoors is a boon to the spirit. Even Gypsy too seems to drink the air in greedily: it smells so clean and clear this time of year. In fact, she’s probably finding me a bit of a bother because now I get in the saddle and make her work. I even had to use the spurs the other day she was so lazy! Well one thing is for sure: it’s a good workout. Soon I am hoping to perhaps join a jumping lesson. Maybe even get to a schooling show this summer, BECAUSE I CAN. Now, I spent most of my teenage weekends at horseshows, and so retired from showing a long time ago. Such a renewal of interest would be entirely silly of me, but I just want so badly to feel part of the community again. For so long I sat on the sidelines catching my breath, you know?
In many respects I feel like a teenager again. Not just because I feel the fitness that I had in teenage returning, but simply because teenage is a time of CHANGE, and there is so much of change happening in my body right now. I’ve been gaining weight. I have been learning a new skill (Diabetes management), I have been watching my body change, my face especially. It got a bit moon faced there at 25 mgs of Prednisone, but is looking more normal at 20. Then there was the drug fueled moustache I had for a couple months, which has thankfully now fallen out of it’s own accord. Oh, and I’m on a new drug, an anti-fungal for my lungs. (It is $50 a pill, and I take it twice a day until April — Thanks be to God for Manulife!) I tell you, it’s like one change after the next! TEENAGE all over again!
But if I am in teenage, Henry most definatly isn’t. The poor old boy is forever fixated with ice. He loves to roll around on it, scrape at it, lick it, and then roll around on it some more. It drove him wild to see me skate this winter. Well so the old boy decided he’d like to walk across Connie’s not-so-frozen pool yesterday! Well, the ice didn’t hold him and down and in he went. We fished him out, but he didn’t half scare himself and is extremely sore from straining to escape his near icy-demise. Mother said, “that’s the most frightened I’ve been since they wheeled you into the operating room!” In my worry for Henry I got a glimpse into just how hard it must be to watch someone you love be in such dire straights. But anyways, he’s safe now!
So there you have it. Just as the buds are about to pop, so too is Pangman coming back to life. I had hoped that Tom would write to you during his March break with tales of our adventures, but truthfully we’ve spent half of it apart: Tom has a cold! We did, however, have a lovely day Tuesday walking up to Kensington market (a walk I’ve never been able to make before) and into all the vintage clothing stores: Tom bought a Homburg! Oh, and I even walked to and from the CN tower on Sunday, which sort of blows my mind as it’s about half an hour each direction. Note to self: get better shoes! So, I think Tom would probably write here, “Look at her go!” which I hear him saying quite often these days.
At the risk of continuing to write slightly self obsessed and possibly braggadocios blog entries ( I hope they do not come across as such, I’m just so thrilled!) I will hopefully be able to post a lot less frequently. Which is to say that I pray every day that these lungs work well for a long time to come and that we have few emergencies to write about, although with transplant there is always the risk of stuff going awry quickly. Which is why I want to get busy and back to life! Never fail to stop and smell the roses, which I did, in fact do today at the greenhouse, and they smelled very sweet indeed. But there I am again bragging. Well… gotta’ go!