But blurry vision turned out to be the least of my problems. That verdict came from a higher authority, Dr. TWWNCBUIP (also known as the wife) who delivered her diagnosis with the cheerful certainty of someone who has already looked up the answer.
The prescription: a full-body tune-up, and no appeals would be entertained.
The reason is sitting right there on the calendar. Later this year, we have a Rhine River cruise arranged by the Texas Restaurant Association.
The cruise will be on a river yacht threading through storybook towns and villages along the Rhine, the kind of places where the streets are cobblestone, the hills are real, and the scenery is best appreciated with working legs and focused eyeballs. If I want to wander those streets rather than bump into them, some advance preparation seemed wise.
The prizes waiting at the finish line are modest but meaningful: a lower A1C, the ability to read highway signs on Loop 610 without squinting, and calves capable of handling a cobblestone village without filing a formal complaint.
So the rehabilitation plan is now officially underway. Each morning I complete a three-mile walk through the Willowbend neighborhood before a single drop of coffee or a spoonful of yogurt is permitted. The rest of the day involves the machines at the YMCA and whatever the physical therapist has decided I deserve. I do not negotiate with the physical therapist.
The Rhine is on the horizon. The tune-up is in progress. Dr. TWWNCBUIP is monitoring all metrics closely.
