Twenty-eight days after open heart surgery
to install an aortic valve
(genuine Longhorn Bull tissue),
I can barely restrain myself from running Roberto Duran combinations
against "Bobo,"
my wall-mount head/torso striking bag
from Title Boxing.
To punch Bobo's fucking lights out right now, would be self-indulgent...
and probably would pop
the surgical wires holding me together.
So... anger boils in my cranial vault....
I am not supposed to hold trainer Tara Finvola's leash for another 90-days... until cleared off all "sternal cautions." Tara Finvola is unhappy with this arrangement and its limits.
However limited I am four stinkin' weeks after open heart surgery, it sure would be nice to have at least some half-speed sparring rounds. Nope... not quite yet.