Baby, I Was Born to Run

Identity: Self Portrait

David and I are at our favorite brewery slurping steamer clams with broth-soaked crusty bread and sharing pints. Overhead, Bruce Springsteen’s disembodied voice wails Baby We Were Born to Run:

The highway’s jammed with broken heroes on a last chance power drive

Everybody’s out on the run tonight

but there’s no place left to hide

Together Wendy we can live with the sadness

I’ll love you with all the madness in my soul

h-Oh, Someday girl I don’t know when

we’re gonna get to that place

Where we really wanna go

and we’ll walk in the sun

But till then tramps like us

baby we were born to run

It’s the first hot, sunny day of the year in Portland, and I’m thinking life doesn’t get any better than this.

In a few more days, my medical leave ends and I return to work in the ambulatory oncology clinic. Damn, back to work just as I’m feeling good. That’s how it goes. I’m mostly ready. There are restrictions on lifting, and time on my feet, which require light duty for a couple more weeks. I will return the same week Epic, the electronic medical record (EMR) program, goes into effect. The way the medical leave program works at our hospital, I was restricted from attending Epic training classes while on leave.  I hope I’m allowed to make them up during the time I’m on light duty. Otherwise, I will hit the ground running along with my colleagues.

It’s okay, because baby, I was born to run. Literally. Running is my exercise of choice. I haven’t been able to since this health problem began. Running is as much a part of my morning routines as brushing my teeth. I don’t feel right without it. Hopefully, my surgeon will give the go ahead to start at the next follow up visit. I am cleared for walking and do at least a short one most days. Growing stronger, and healthy again, I feel energy building within me.

The need to run is not only physical. It’s mental too. I miss my nursing job. I miss being the person who helps instead of the person needing help. I want to be Superman, not Lois Lane. I want to drive the motorcycle, not hold on from the back seat.

2 thoughts on “Baby, I Was Born to Run

  1. Juli, I saw this phrase in the paper this morning and this blog reminded me of it and you.
    “I am fairly certain that given a cape and a nice tiara, I could save the world”
    Love, Mom

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