Therapeutic

I swear, if it isn’t one thing, it’s another.  I JUST had surgery, and now I can barely walk?!

I didn’t write earlier this week because my leg had been hurting all weekend.  I have sciatica.  I usually get it for a bit and it clears up with a heating pad and Tylenol within a couple of hours.  This time is different.  This has hurt since last Thursday, getting progressively worse each day.  I went to the doctor on Monday instead, who prescribed everything: painkillers, muscle relaxers, nerve meds, and physical therapy.  

The last time I was in physical therapy, it was for my ankle.  When I was about 12, I was on a softball team.  I played left field, because I sucked at it.  Sports are not my thing.  Alas, one day a ball came right for me, and I registered that it would be a low catch, so I held out my glove.  The ball grazed it.  Then, it landed directly on my ankle.  Had I not slowed it down a bit with the glove, we probably would have ended up in the hospital that day, but instead I was told to “walk it off,” which made no sense since it hurt to walk. 

Cut to maybe five years later.  I have had massive problems with rolling or spraining my ankle for years.  One day at Sacred Heart, as I was walking down the stairs from Art class, my ankle rolled and I managed to tumbled down two flights of stairs.  I could not walk.  It wasn’t broken, I knew that, because the pain was only a dull throb.  However, I could not walk.  The custodian got me a wheelchair and took me to the nurse, who asked if I wanted to go home.  Most kids would jump at the chance to leave school early, but in my head all I heard was my old baseball coach saying “walk it off.”  It was just a sprain, like always.  I would be fine.  And, I was, that day…with a little ice and rest during Spanish class.

I really was not fine, though.  It swelled and bruised and when we finally got an x-ray, I was told there were several very old hairline fractures in my foot.  Physical therapy was prescribed.

I remember exactly two things from my time doing PT: putting my foot in the whirlpool tub, and that the therapist was HOTT.  I don’t know how long I went for, but both the idea of the whirlpool tub and the cutie therapist made me look forward to it.  When it was over, my ankle was stronger.  It still rolls on occasion.  And when the weather acts up, the ankle acts up.  But, it is much stronger than it was, so for that I am grateful. 

The PT for my leg is preventative.  Apparently, there isn’t much I can do but ride out the storm, and then try to prevent it in the future.  And ohmygod, I will do whatever they say.  It’s literally the worst pain I’ve ever felt, and this is coming from someone who just had major stomach surgery.  I would do anything to take this pain away right now, and the stretches and heating pads and medication are just not doing it.

So, yeah, it was hard to get myself to the computer to write, just like it was hard today to do it, too.  I am sitting in a comfy chair at the moment, though, and my hip hasn’t started to ache yet, so perhaps a poem will fall out of my fingertips?

No?  Just doom-scrolling Twitter?

Ok, then.

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