I went back to physical therapy tonight. It was much less intense, as far as my crying goes, :) but the therapist didn't go easy on me. I guess they're not paid to let you be lazy and immobile! I had to do these steps up and down off of a small box (it frightened me to see three other boxes that were higher than the one I was using, as I am sure the therapist will find a way to implement the larger ones). My calf was killing me and I said as much to my therapist when I said 'My calf is going to hurt tomorrow!' He replied with 'Your whole leg is going to be hurting tomorrow!' Can't wait...
What was really great about therapy tonight is he started me on the stationary bike. I am not sure how long I rode it, maybe only 5 minutes; 10 max. BUT...I RODE THE BIKE!! And it didn't hurt. Do you know what this means??? This means that I can go back to the Y and tolerate it for longer than a couple of minutes! I think I could easily do 30 minutes right now, with no resistance of course! I'll have to work up to that part. 3 short weeks after surgery (5 weeks after injury) I can get back to working out! Get some use out of those monthly fees.
I saw a man at therapy tonight that reminded me of how blessed I was. Not that he wasn't blessed-I don't mean to infer that. It's just that sometimes we don't realize how good we have it until we are reminded of what some people have to suffer through. This man was missing his left leg and he was going through therapy-learning to walk again with a prosthesis. Can you imagine that? Can you imagine the kind of strength it takes to get through something like that and come out on top, having overcome? Overhearing some of his conversation with his therapist, this man was confident and willing to do whatever it took to learn to walk again. I was in awe listening to and watching him and it just really got me thinking about life and loss and learning to live again. I recently reconnected with a friend who lost an arm not too long ago and going through therapy for my piddly little knee problem, I couldn't help but sit through therapy and think that what I am enduring is NOTHING compared to what this person had to go through; physically, mentally, emotionally...I am amazed by that kind of strength. In awe, really. We see people around us suffer and lose loved ones or battle cancer and think 'I could never, EVER handle something like that'. But what I am learning is that if put in that position, I would do whatever I had to do to survive-it would be instinct. Sure I'd have days I'm sure (more than I'd like) where I wouldn't know how to get out of bed, but I think that when we face those horribly dark times in life, there has to be something that kicks in (even if not right away) that makes us move on and learn how to adapt to life without a person, or a limb, etc...I know for me it would have to be faith in the God I love and HE would be the one to help me get out of bed each morning.
Sometimes I never know where this writing will lead. I guess that this is what was on my mind tonight...
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