This picture about sums it up as the nurses and physical therapist dance gingerly around Marc’s prone body, disconnecting hoses, tubes and monitors to get him up for the first time only five hours after surgery. They lasso a big wide strap around his ample mid-section and off he goes with the walker, grimacing and shuffling like a ninety year old, as he takes the necessary fifty steps for today’s exercise. Since every step is one closer to getting released from the torture chamber, er, hospital, he is happy to comply however, so finally manages a grin and a joke. That’s my guy! By 6 p.m. he is frazzled and sleepy, as am I, so I bid him adieu and drive home for some of my mom’s chicken noodle soup.
