One week past surgery. Three days out of the hospital. I have reached my goal: I can now shuffle/walk for 15 minutes without stopping, three times a day. Wow. Afterwards, I sleep for an hour. The exhaustion is beyond description. But in between the extended naps, if I sit quietly, I can approach a feeling that is almost normal. My weight drops about a half pound per day, currently at 169 pounds, as years of hard-earned muscle mass fall away. And still eleven more weeks before I can begin working on my real fitness.
My heart feels like it will jump from my chest with every beat, and the pain has not improved one bit, but I no longer have sweats and chills. My muscles have atrophied to a point I have never witnessed, and my skin is like aged leather. But at least it is reasonably close to a color I recognize.
Tramadol, 50 mg every four hours, works very well for the pain while keeping me coherent. If I forget a dose by minutes, it feels like my chest has been caved in with a baseball bat.
Goals for week two: Begin lower body stretching exercises and work up to 30 minute walks.