Take No Guff

Speaking For Myself

Not guff from another, guff from yourself. I use the word, “guff,” as a substitute for discharge of a normal manner. It is ever so civilized a word, is it not, in comparison to any guess you might care to make?

It is something I learned during the healing process when I came up with excuses to not strive back to health. Sure, I was feeling like “guff” but that was no damned excuse not to strive as the sooner I worked the quicker I would return to normal. Now, normal was not forecast when I got home. A convalescent hospital was prescribed, probably for the rest of my life. I was having none of that so I worked my derriere off and started walking, a bit at a time. A few months after that I got some light weights and started pressing and curls to bring my arms back into condition as well. Ten pound dumbbells were all I could muster but it made a huge difference in stamina rather quickly.

Walking I could only mange to wobble around our block which is a country block nor suburb block. That was after I gained confidence to use steps to get down to street level. One step down took two days to brave. I was a pathetic mess but that mess learned to smile. A little at a time but to achieve any momentum in the healing process I had to begin refusing my minds guff by saying bugger off to negatives.

Today I walked 5.2 miles at 3.3 mph. I am worn the heck out as it is 89 degrees outside but no guff anywhere within my brain is ever allowed. I would much rather keel over dead on a walk than to peter out slowly in a convalescent hospital. “No Ma’am, thank you very much! I’d rather walk.”

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