It's apparently a slow process.
I either sleep too much or too little, it seems, but I'm working to control that.
In spite of the fact that a couple of doctors and a few nurses have told me that my limit of drinking should be two drinks or two beers or two glasses of wine a day, I have kept it to one since I came home from the hospital.
I'm a little wobbly on my feet even before the alcohol.
Still I'm getting around, with the help of a cane at times but the walker I started off with was too much of a hassle for me so I quickly abandoned it.
I've been visited by a physical therapist for an interview and to see how I've been doing.
She'll be back to torture me with exercises, again and again and again.
I have appointments scheduled for next week with my personal care doctor and with my cardiologist.
So that's my report, to anyone who is interested.
I have had one recurring thought, though, that has me scratching my head.
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