Saturday is the day that seems to remind me I need this operation. I feel pretty good all week. I've been working overtime, getting things in order as well as making extra money anticipating lost work time. I have no sick leave, working for myself. I have the energy to do this, so it leaves me feeling doubtful, wondering why I agreed. Then, comes Saturday; tennis early in the morning, a visit to my mother for breakfast after that.
The two weeks before this one, I had to leave the tennis court early. The first week, I ran for a ball lobbed over Lee Phillips head, and was done after that. The next week, I decided to serve hard (always my best stroke), and left the game after only a half hour. This week, I decided to take it easy, and was able to play for a full two sets. Yet, running around less and easing up on my serve, I was still the most winded of anyone on the court.
Then, I went to my mother's apartment. We had breakfast. She wanted me to take her to the store, but before we left, the toilet overflowed. I shut the water off, got some cleaning supplies, and went on my hands and knees to clean up the floor. My mother kept questioning whether I was working too hard, with my heart the way it is, and I told her not to worry, it was a very small job. She's 85 years old, and I certainly did not want to leave it for her to do. It took about ten minutes. Although I didn't tell her, I was truly out of breath. Nothing serious, but certainly a reminder that I need this operation.
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