Two weeks seems such a long time to be away. I’d have thought today, in commemoration of my return, would dawn with sunny bright skies, lots of warmth and blue birds flying around singing and tweeting in their prettiest voices. Well, it didn’t. The sky is light gray and it’s damp and chilly. Nothing outside looks at all inviting. I do need to fill the feeders, but that will be it for the day.

This last recuperation has been amazing. I was up and around almost immediately, and the story would be boring except for Friday, my discharge day. It was decided mid-morning I could leave, but no one was available to pick me up. My sister, who was supposed to, had a problem with her car. I asked if discharge could be delayed a few hours and was told no. The nurse said I had to leave regardless as my bed had already been given away and the paperwork was done. I asked if I could sit in the lobby until such time as I could get a ride. Nope. The social worker said I had to take the bus. The hospital would give me a chit for the cab and money for the bus. Don’t carry anything heavier than a phone book I was told which pretty much excluded my bag, but that made no difference and was ignored. The social worker gave me $16.00, not enough for the bus I told her. As I had not a cent of my own, that would have meant sitting and begging at the station. She told me she’d looked it up, but I had also done the looking and knew the amount. I called her and told her to check again. She said it was on the Greyhound site which it wasn’t. I sent her to the Plymouth and Brockton site where the bus rate was listed as $19.00 to Hyannis. She came back, gave me three dollars and wanted to know what happened to the days when people trusted one another. I was flabbergasted. Well, I was walked to the door and put into a cab, three days days after surgery. I got to the bus terminal and stood at the bottom of what seemed like a million stairs. I felt like an extra in a 30’s movie where heaven is in the clouds at the top of a huge flight of stairs and an angel, usually a guy, waits at a desk for the check-in. It took a while to get up those stairs without a banister for balance but I managed and got my ticket, walked to the gate and just about crawled up the bus stairs where the man in the first seat got up and offered his seat. I took it. During the ride, I slept on and off and don’t remember much. At Sagamore, the man beside me got off and when I stood, the lady behind said, Oh my God, you’re back.”

I made it to Barnstable where my friend Tony picked me up and drove me home. My nephew Michael greeted me with flowers and not long after that my sister arrived. It was close to 7, and I went up stairs to bed. I woke up on Saturday at 4:30 in the afternoon.

The week in between has been wonderful. My sister drove me anywhere I needed and waited on me. It was wonderful to come downstairs and be handed the papers and a cup of coffee. I could live like that.

Well, I am back (almost a pun here) for good. This surgery seemed to have worked. I guess the practice run helped.

Thanks again for hanging around and waiting. I’m just so happy to be writing Coffee again!!