Joe on the Toe

 193.

I find it fascinating that something that I have done, effortlessly and without conscious supervision my entire life, would provide such a thrill. I am standing for the first time since the ambush, alone and under my own - compromised - power. Flanked by the Neurologist and Hank, the security guard assigned to guard my body, I run an anatomical diagnostic, what we used to call during intensive physical training a total systems check. Starting at the base I send all my focused attention to my toes. They tingle as if being attacked by an angry porcupine. My assessment is that having laid dormant for so long they need some 'wake-up' time to resume their primary responsibility of keeping me balanced and upright. I am enjoying this.

I repeat the TSC up the line, taking critical notes along the way as I test the theory suggesting that energy flows where your focus goes. The Neurologist is apparently intrigued by this as well, taking her own notes of my progress, or lack thereof. I feel my ankles, the first area where I notice the right-left imbalance. Up the line past the achilles, soleus and gastrocnemius and into my knees goes the inspection. With each stop I make mental note of the condition and status of each group of tendons, ligaments, muscles, bones, their blood flow and electrical connections. By the time that I get to my core, the crossroads of the lower body with the upper, I am exhausted.

During the process I have managed to move forward about a foot. Hank has been extremely patient during the probe, keeping an effective distance should the test suddenly head south. The Neurologist, seemingly amazed at my clumsy motor responses to what she tells me are extraordinary physical accomplishments, is all smiles.

Encouraged and a touch emboldened by all this 'progress', I continue the testing procedure.

There is a respectful knock at the door. It opens to reveal Julie standing with two grande cups of coffee, green mermaids unabashedly announcing the brand. We all freeze as she makes a quick assessment of the current situation.

I watch in super slow motion as her jaw drops open and both mermaids drop to the marble floor, sending their steaming contents, one a latte and the other black, rushing across the polished expanse towards my naked feet.

When the caffeinated tidal wave reaches them I feel no pain.