What do I expect? A therapist to take an old body with old bones, muscles, and nerve endings...also loaded with severe arthritis to make me the new improved Hilda.
Well, first of all, his bed, work station, that I'm supposed to jump up on was just tooo high. I tried...couldn't make it. He saw me strugged trying to heave up and I just couldn't make it.
So, he holds out his hand and tells me to put my foot on it...and then hop up. I felt like I was mounting a horse.
I was afraid I was going to break his hand...and I just couldn't do it.
Finally, he left the room and brought an aluminum stool...wonderful. Now seeing how short I am...should he have watched me struggle.
However, he was really nice. He massaged...and then used electric shock..and took any pain away with ice. He asked how I was feeling...and I was feeling great because I was numb. Um....good feeling like I was on super drugs.
He also gave me exercises to do at my doorway...very painful...and I click and click.....I feel like I'm a piece of machinery who has seen better days.
He also told me to get two tennis balls and put them in a sock and roll over the sore area.
I guess, really, it's all up to me. I'm motivated. When the weather gets a little warmer...I'll splish and splash.
He told me I reminded him of his golf trainer when he was young. I guess that was a compliment.
So.....now I've reached a new low....physical therapy....and I'm also wearing an emergency alert gizmo in case I fall.
I'm fully ready to admit I'm not young any more....even though when I go to the beach, I have the darnest urge to do cartwheels.....only in my crazy mind of course.
In the meantime I'll stay with my little migrant children...and I sit on their little baby chairs and I tie their shoelaces....and read them stories. That's where I belong....looking deep into their sweet eyes and imagine how they're going to grow up. My darlings.....
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