One of the most annoying things about my brain surgery recovery is that I’m not allowed to drive. That will end at some point, but I have no idea yet when. So, for the most part, I must get where I need to go on foot.
This is a mixed blessing. The brain tumor itself had weakened my body to the point that doctors were surprised I could still walk when they finally discovered it. Now that the tumor is gone, walking is actually the best thing I can do for my recovery.
But I need to rebuild my muscles and stamina as I go, so I can only walk so far.
As a result, I need to confine my walking to a limited radius from my house so I don’t wind up accidently stranded somewhere or way overdo it getting myself home.
As I was figuring out where I could and could not go, I realized something that having ready access to a car had robbed me of: my house, which I bought 13 years ago, is in the best possible location one could ask for. Who knew?