For over an hour, the three of us sat in the entrance area of the hospital where I go to the pulmonary rehab class. Sherman, Dick and I exchanged gifts, stories, recipes and Dick was looking at the pretty young women walking away from us. "It's a good day!" he would say loudly.
Dick was planning to buy five fresh crabs at our harbor for his Christmas dinner, Sherman was talking about the tiramisu at his favorite restaurant where he was going on Christmas Eve and I was talking about all the places we are planning to take William while he is in town plus the runs to the harbor for fresh crab. And garlic French bread.
Suddenly, Dick said, "This is what I look forward to all week." Sherman said, "Me, too. How do you ever explain this? My daughters don't get why I come so early and I really can't tell them everything we talk about. It doesn't make sense when I try to explain it all."
I said, "It's not about the exercise. It is about having a chronic disease and not being so isolated. It is about social and emotional support." The friendships, the laughter, the "having to be somewhere" after being declared disabled, gave me confidence to create and move forward to the next phase of my life. Pulmonary rehab saved my live in so many ways. It also saved my spirit and my soul. And I got two very best friends in the process.
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