Lazarus

My first foray away from my sofa or bed was on Ash Wednesday for noon services. I was scheduled to read the second lesson, and I was determined to be there. I felt that I was in pretty good shape after the events of the preceding Friday, lucky and blessed not to have broken legs or arms, so off I went.

It was a big mistake. The pain that had overwhelmed me the night before returned during that service, and I had to leave after the Imposition of Ashes. Stupidity rather than bravery led me to think that I could, after less than a week of recovery, act as if nothing much had happened to me.

Next came the Academy Awards party at Chris and Joe’s on last Sunday night. I’d been a good boy all week in anticipation of going, and Drew and Arlen came to fetch me. When I walked in, I evoked the same reaction I had on Ash Wednesday; people looked astonished as if they had seen Lazarus walk out of his tomb. Here was Robert, on his feet and mobile, after having been hit by a car. A miracle!

Well, maybe not a miracle, just more tenacity not to be an invalid any longer than I had to be. Plus, I was just plain bored sitting or lying around at home, healing.

It’s now two weeks and a day since the car and I met each other in the street, and yesterday was very strange with regard to the healing process. I had to go to Office Depot to have a number of documents copies and sent (re-financing my mortgage), and there I was, feeling pretty chipper at 9:00AM. Back home by 10, and an odd feeling of total exhaustion came over me. I sat down on the sofa, turned on junk TV, and promptly fell asleep, awaking at 4:00PM.

By 7:30 I was picking up my friend Linda to go to the Diversionary Theater to see a play. Felt great, but the theater seats began to give my back some fits. Padded it up with my coat and all was well.

Again, the Lazarus effect as I walked into the ticket office. Congratulations accompanied amazement that there I was, relieved of my grave clothes, and talking more or less articulately.

Home and right to bed. Slept all night, and that amazed me since I’d slept all day. I’m learning a lot about listening to what the body needs to heal itself, and believe it or not, I’m no longer trying to direct things.

So I want to assure all of you who have been so nice to phone or text or e-mail with good wishes, that as I enter week three of the healing process, your kindness has been the best medicine. (Well, Percocet hasn’t been too bad, either.) Thanks for all your caring.

Robert Heylmun