Recovery, X2

Yesterday I saw an orthopedic doctor.  My muscle strain, though painful, is not serious, he said:  "Take it easy, it'll heal itself."  He took some of the stitches out of my leg and substituted surgical tape.  

I don't know whether he's a cyclist, but he deals a lot with sports injuries.  So he understood when I complained that not cycling--when, it seems, everyone else in the world is turning their pedals and spinning their wheels through streets and paths dusted with red and gold and brown leaves fluttered down from wizening boughs--is driving me totally nuts.  "About two more weeks, if this keeps up," he said about my recovery.  That, to be fair, is a bit more optimistic than what the folks in the Long Island Jewish emergency room told me.  "That makes sense," he said.  "In ERs, they're zealous with their treatment and advice."

Of course, I don't mind now that the ER doctors and nurses were "zealous":  It may be the reason why I'm recovering well, so far.  But, oh, I want to get back on my bike.  And I don't want to gain back the weight I've lost during the last few months!

One irony in all of this is that the day after I got home from the hospital, I got a call from a doctor at the Westchester Medical Center Brain and Spine Center, where I ended up after my June accident.  The bleeding near my brain had cleared up, he said, and the latest images show no residual damage.  But, he admonished me to "be careful" because another impact to my head can magnify the trauma I suffered in the first accident.

"I will," I promised.  I didn't tell him why.

(Thank you to everyone who checked in on me!)