Part 3 — Life Goes On

Once I settled into the routine of Xarelto, the warnings started feeling like more what they really were:--precautions. Important, yes — but not reasons to live in fear.

I hadn’t had a serious automobile accident in more than twenty years. I don’t use power tools. I’m not out climbing ladders or juggling chainsaws. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that while the risks were real, they were manageable. I just needed to be aware, not afraid.

For a few weeks I stuck with the electric shaver, mostly because the discharge papers made it sound like a single nick from a razor could turn into a crime scene. But after a while, once the initial anxiety faded, I went back to my regular safety razor. And you know what? Nothing dramatic happened. No uncontrolled bleeding. No emergency room visits. Just one or two tiny nicks — the kind anyone gets — and even those barely bled. Not even from shaving either.

Life, as it turns out, does go on.

I was learning that recovery isn’t just about the body healing. It’s about the mind recalibrating. It’s about realizing that you can’t bubble‑wrap yourself forever. You take the warnings seriously, you adjust where needed, and then you get back to living your life.

And that’s exactly what I began to do.