Pinkalicious New Cane

I went back to therapy for my last visit and they had no luck finding a cane in my size. I was not surprised. I've spent a lifetime hunting for things in "my size" only to conclude they simply do not exist. The next day I got a call from a local number I didn't recognize and sent it to voice mail, assuming it was something stressful that could wait. When I listened to the message it was the lady from PT explaining that she had found me a cane. I simply needed to go pick it up. She described it as "pinkish purple" and gave the impression she'd paid for it out of her own pocket.

This afternoon I went to pick it up. Low and behold it was the right size!

Test Drive

After I had given it a spin I called and left her a message thanking her. Do you like it? It's not bad looking. Pink wouldn't have been my first choice but I like it. We may spruce it up a bit more actually. It's super light and you know THE CORRECT FREAKING HEIGHT!! On the walk back to my car my sister was using my old crutch and she started complaining about her shoulder! Moving on, my friends. There's still a lot of work to be done on my shoulders to avoid shoulder surgery, but this feels like a good place. I know what's wrong and what I have to do to fix it (even if that's a ton of work).

The Moment When You Prepare for a Fight and Then Everyone Agrees With You

I begrudgingly dragged myself back to physical therapy today. Visions of wasted time dancing in my exhausted head. We got off on the wrong foot because all of my co-pays for PT I'd paid each appointment had somehow been applied to my balance at the Ortho. So, frustrating! I made a lump sum payment to the Ortho on Monday and now I have to pay my PT co-pays again?!? Oy! It wouldn't have been so bad if they hadn't acted stunned and confused by it. Add that to my "calls to make before the weekend list."

I have to admit I wasn't my usual gung-ho self at all. My dentist appt the day before went poorly and the saga that has dragged on since January (and I thought was ending yesterday) continues. So depressing. In spite of, the dark cloud over me I was determined to get the most out of this last two appointments. I did my arm bike warm-up while zoning out to some terrible pop music they had playing. I'm a big fan of Pat Benatar when I exercise, but to each their own, I guess.

When the timer went off I prepared to give my PT an earful. I mentioned the billing issue and was told for the second time to call them. Then I brought up what the shoulder doctor had said about committing to these exercises for six months until it heals. The PT seemed a little bummed that we only had today and one more visit (that makes one of us!). I did a little happy dance for no more co-pays in my head. Now he was in for it, I was going to unload about the crutches.

I was sure I'd say that I wanted to get rid of them and he'd argue with me. Have I mentioned I'm wrong a lot? Thank Goodness! He was surprised to hear I had not been a lifelong crutches user (only off and on usually post-surgery). He was also surprised (probably more so) that I don't use them in the house at all. After hearing my "Why are we doing all this if the crutches are going to be perpetually working against us" rant, he agreed!

He asked me to walk without the crutches so he could observe my gait. Then he asked me to walk with one crutch alternating sides so he could see the difference in my gait. Then he said "you should wean off of them as much as possible." He wants me to use one, but be careful to switch sides so I don't aggravate one shoulder. We also discovered my crutches are to tall for me. Shocking, I know. He wants me to find a cane. Unfortunately, the cane they had at PT was still to big even adjusted all the way down.

Ultimately, he wants me rocking the House cane when I need extra stability because (if it's the correct height) it will help with the shoulder issues. I'm down...I think. Normal people are lucky they never have to switch legs like those creepy dolls. People with mobility issues are always switching devices. I often feel resistant in the beginning. It's like driving a rental car you can't get out of, in the beginning. The next challenge is finding a cane that fits me (and I can afford). Fingers crossed!

Follow Up...Wait, I Had Something For This...

I had been eagerly counting the days until I saw the shoulder doctor again. I was sure it would mark the end of physical therapy. I thought he'd come in and ask if it was better I'd say it was and he'd send me on my way. I thought if I promised to keep up with my exercises it would be the end of the whole shoulder ordeal. Have I mentioned that I'm wrong a lot?

He did come in and ask if was better, but instead of sending me on my way he insisted I finish out my last two PT appointments. He then went on to tell me that it would be a minimum of SIX MONTHS (minimum not total) of daily commitment to this exercise program before it heals properly. I'm sure my expression was aghast because he repeated this tidbit two more times. He kept telling me how important it was to make sure I was solid on these exercises so I can continue them for the next six months on my own. He even said he was "harping on it, but only because it's so important." It was especially important for me he said with a sideways glance at the crutches. Then he said there were surgical options, but he didn't think that would work for me since it would force me to be one armed for a few months. I assured him surgery wasn't on the table no matter how long or short recovery would be. He was fine with that and probably only brought it up because of my shock at the timeline.

I left the Ortho's office and popped into PT to make my last two appointments. When we got in the car I explained it to Isaac this way:
Imagine you stubbed your toe. Really, really stubbed it so badly you went to the doctor. Which was annoying because, you're at the doctor for a stubbed toe. The doctor tells to to go to physical therapy for it. You think, "for a toe?!?" You go and your toe starts to feel better. At which point you're sure it's a problem-solved-situation. You go back to the doctor and he tells you it'll be a minimum of six months before your toe is healed and he this it's imperative that it heals properly.

I hate that everyone acknowledges the crutches as a big factor in the problem AND points to them as the reason why I have to fix it. F*&^ the crutches. I HATE them. I spent the better part of my life without mobility devices (excluding the wheelchair as needed). The crutches are annoying, they are inconvenient and they are hurting me. I say it's time to ditch them. Time will tell...

The Advanced Class

I'm fairly certain that when normal people hit the gym they follow a progression. Stretches and simple exercises, exercises with resistance, more resistance and then maintenance. Something along those lines, probably. Physical therapy works in a similar manner (ideally). You usually stop going when the insurance runs out and at least in my case maintenance is unreachable. Things change so often I am always playing catch up.

This week we did the same warm-ups, but instead of the mat exercises we had been doing we moved on to resistance. I will say he doesn't spend to much time checking on me. He generally just asks me if I feel ready for more. The first time he asked I said "No." After some thought I inquired if it would always be this hard. It seems so silly to me how tiring these simple exercises are! Then again when have I ever been well rested when I did them? This week when he asked if I was ready for more I decided I was as ready as I'd ever be.

We broke out the...Theraband! Therabands are colorful pieces of rubber to pull against. The color signifies how much give each one has.He scientifically determined that since I already had a green band at home, green was the perfect resistance level. Once again, it was difficult. With these I found it way tougher on the left side than the right. After we had done the list I was winded and sweaty (and slightly embarrassed). I mean if I can't be a super star at upper body PT when can I? Sigh.

He sent me home with the new exercise list, an orange Threaband (they were out of green and he was worried that the one I had would be to short) and orders to do these new ones twice a day. I left tired with sore shoulder blades wondering where in my day I'd find time for this. I'm pretty sure after my follow up with the Ortho on Monday I won't be back for more PT (I hope) so I've got to solider on with this alone.

I'm grateful for the reduction in pain, but I really resent the time and money I've had to invest in this. If it were my back, my knee, my hip anything other than my upper body I'm sure I'd feel better about it. I feel annoyed every time I hand over a co-pay thinking about the groceries that could have paid for. I wish life were fair and only the broken bits caused problems while the good stuff stayed good. Instead the good stuff pulls the weigh of the bad stuff until everything's broken. Fingers crossed, this was my last visit to PT for a long while.

Physical Training

So, I went in for my first real physical therapy appointment aka I "hit the gym with my personal trainer". You may remember we were focusing on my upper back muscles. It was all about contracting those shoulder blades. I assumed an upper body work out would be a cake walk. Have I mentioned that I'm wrong a lot? Hard is light years away from what this was.

I started off on the hand bike (which is exactly what it sounds like). He set it for 10min at a resistance level of 2. In my head I was scoffing at his lack of faith. I actually contemplated asking him to bump the resistance level up a bit. I mean come on, a two?!? I'm Miss Upper Body, arms are kind of my thing. I kept quiet though. I was to pedal forward five minutes and backwards five. I was to focus on "pulling rather than pushing." No problem, I imagined a stubborn child pulling against me toward a parking lot. My PT wonders off at that point to do who-knows-what and I notice the horrible music playing for the first time. No distraction or motivation from that crap. The first five minutes got rough around minute three. I thought reversing my direction would be easier. Not sure why I thought that, uphill/downhill? Wrong a lot. I was fatigued when the timer went off and that was only the warm up!

Then we go over to a mat and he proceeds to teach me the exercises above. They don't look like much, but let me just say, "Holy Crap!" I was down right ashamed. My PT had two things to say about that: First, the more developed you are in the front, the harder it is to build the muscles in the back. Second, the PT had a professional body builder (with extremely developed pecs and such) who was unable to lift his arms at all during the first exercise. He claims the man was so embarrassed he never returned. I don't know if the body builder thing was true, but it made me feel a little better. It's amazing how entangled your sense of self can get with your physical attributes.

It wasn't all discouraging he did remark that there was definite improvement from my evaluation to this appointment. He said it with a sense of genuine surprise. His surprise, surprised me. I explained that he told me to squeeze my shoulder blades together as many times as I could each day until I came back, so I did. Cutting coupons, squeeze my shoulder blades. Folding laundry, squeeze my shoulder blades. Sitting at a red light, squeeze my shoulder blades. At any point when it occurs to me I squeeze my shoulder blades. I also reported a slight decrease in pain. Again he seemed stunned and said he was glad. I guess most people don't go home and follow instructions. Gold star, me.

I was completely...I don't know what I was. I was angry, frustrated, annoyed, a little bit relieved and really freaking tired. I felt like it was a total waste of time and money if all we're going to do are a handful of exercise I can do at home by myself (unlike my lower body PT stuff). I felt weak and frustrated by how difficult it all was. I was certainly relieved that I knew the cause of the problem and how do something about it. I guess sexy back muscles and perky boobs are a plus too.

A Lot On My Shoulders

The latest chapter in my most recent orthopedic odyssey was a trip to physical therapy this week. I've had physical therapy visits hundreds of times, and most of the time I remember them positively. At the age of three years old, I hadn't yet walked. It was during a PT appointment when my mom and grandma were told the therapist was going to "try something" and not to get their hopes up, etc... Then they put a walker in front of me. I grabbed on to that sucker and took off. I had places to go! I went straight to the vending machine in the hallway and asked for cookies, of course! Everyone hearing this tale, laughed about how the adults were in tears about this wonderful moment, while I only had a single minded desire for cookies (so little changes). I wanted a package of the little round cookies with crinkly edges, vanilla with lemon cream. I remember that part vividly.

Obviously, physical therapy has done me significant good here and there, since I was smaller than Miss Roo. This appointment was a horse of a different color, it was for my upper body. I knew I was upset about the appointment. I knew it might be painful and it would certainly be different. I had no idea that it would be a deeply emotional experience. I just wasn't prepared.

I am screaming at myself even writing about this "What is your problem! It shouldn't be this big a deal." It was. It is. It's ok for my shoulder blades to hit a 10 on the pain scale. It is NOT ok to go to physical therapy for my shoulder blades. I have never been able to rely on my lower half and conversely I have always demanded my upper body pick up the slack. It can't break. It can't join my orthopedic issue roller coaster. It is unacceptable.

As I sat there relaying my medical history it could have been a conversation about anything all. Once the evaluation turned to my pain I had a lot of trouble. I felt stupid. I got chocked up several times. I could not articulate my answers well in almost every case. It hit me hard when he asked if I needed a stool to get up on an exam table. I refused one, as is my habit. I used my arms to pull myself up and I sat down. The therapist said in a matter of fact way, "you expect a lot of your arms." I could have burst into tears right there. Dammit. Of freaking Course I do! Did? Oh God.

He told me he sees lots of people with shoulder issues, but NONE of them have fused spine AND walk with crutches. I tried to joke about how ditching the stupid things would solve everything. In case I haven't said it recently, I hate the crutches. As it turns out they (duh!) had a major part in screwing up my shoulders. He gave me an exercise to do until I come back.

I wanted to punch a wall or cry. Instead I hauled my now-furious shoulder blade out to the the desk to make some more appointments. I wanted to scream at someone because this isn't allowed to happen. Instead I collected Isaac and tried to suck it up. I hope this is an isolated issue and not a sign of things to come.

Just keep swimming.

The Lasts

Today was my last therapy appointment before the wedding. I think they doubled up on everything because they knew that. Instead of two sets of twenty she had me doing two sets of forty for everything. I actually had a terrible back spasm and had to stop on the last exercise. I am so sore and tired.

It doesn't help that I left therapy picked up my Mom and hit the mall. I returned Mike's shirt to Macy's, walking. Then we went to lunch, still walking. After all that exercise I was craving protien. I had a steak. Then we both got our underthings for the wedding day squared away, in the wheelchair. After that we hit Target (where I used my chair since I was too tired to walk to an electric cart) to return Mike's bathing suit. It was a good thing because all the thank you cards were on clearance. I got a pack with pretty wedding dresses on the front and a box of white with silver script for about $3 for both. Score!

After that I hit the party store, walking again. I got a few small things. I used three different Amex giftcards with a dollar and change. I figured that was a low traffic place where my doing so wouldn't cause a riot. I still didn't come with everything I set out for, but I'm done now. No more therapy or shopping from now until the wedding.

I even sent Riley home with my Mom after dinner so I could sleep later then 7am tomorrow. Which is totally bizare. It's so different to send Isaac to bed and then have time to myself. I guess I've forgotten what having one kid is like.

Home Exercise Program

It's called being a mom. I'm up by 7:00am everyday (not weekdays, everyday). I get up and start moving. No slinking out of bed and shuffling to the kitchen to sip coffee. From the first little pitter patter of Riley's feet I'm moving. First some bending and stretching during “put the toddler on the potty”. Than standing and reaching during the “making breakfast”. Than a quick rest while she eats. Then bending and reaching for the “gathering of clothes”. A lot of aerobic exercise getting her dressed and even more of it finagling into my clothes.

Standing at the sink doing dishes I shift my weight a handful of times to make sure I'm not favoring the "good side." Dishes and counter cleaning is all about endurance and balance. Picking up toys and entertaining Riley raises the heart rate. Nap time is the cool down for round two.

After nap is a brisk jog down hill. A literal walk to meet Isaac after school. Some juggling the kids' needs for dexterity. Dinner prep and sometimes some writing time for brain flexing. Then the energy runs out, you refill and it's the triathlon of bath, bed and last chores. Then collapse into bed so you can repeat exercises tomorrow (plus actual physical therapy, grocery shopping, returning library books,etc...)

My "Gym"

The membership is steep, but unlike most gyms they usually kick you out rather than sign you to year long contracts. The members are typically older, although there is an occasional young athlete. No one gets hit on here, except maybe the receptionist. Everyone has a "personal trainer." The handicapped spaces are always taken. You have to make appointments to come work out.

Yes, physical therapy is going well. I'm less sore every time with the exception of last Friday. I still get really tired after my sessions though. Although it must be decreasing because before I'd collapse into my wheelchair the minute I got through the door (and stay there for the rest of the day) and now I lay down to rest for a bit, but stick with crutches mostly. Those damn crutches...I don't foresee not needing them in the next 25 days certainly, but maybe by summer? Who knows.

I've got to get the stupid pink stickers off, stat. My mom and the make-up artist had a whole discussion about wrapping them in ribbon, tulle, etc...Ugh. I'm leaning toward stripping them of the hot pink stickers, cleaning them and leaving them white. Although my wedding dress isn't white and according to the tux rental guy white next to ivory makes it look "dirty"

All "accessories” aside, I have been busting my hump and I will look beautiful in that dress. I'm back to my pre-surgery weight and feeling pretty good.

Productivity & Preceived Pain

This weekend we worked on wedding stuff and completed the longest accident free streak for Riley in very recent history. Despite crying from hip pain and having some trouble sleeping it felt productive. We got the non-responders on the RSVPs down to single digits. It'll be thrilling when we hit zero, but that's pretty good. We made serious head way with Miss Riley and the potty. She's been dry all day! As she is very fond of saying: AAAAAAAAAAAA-Men!

I am looking forward to an end of the panic feeling that seizes me in waves lately. I'm assuming it's a side effect of too many balls in the air just now. When physical therapy and wedding planning are off my plate...well other things will replace them. I'm an overachiever I can't turn it off. I've been thinking alot about laying the groundwork for a career. What career? I'm narrowing it down, right now event planning and writing seem like possible options that would allow me to still spend most of my time with the kids.

This is all pure fantasy at this point, of course. I miss working and I have no idea when it will be physically possible again. Speaking of the physical limitations, I strained something big time on Friday. Ouch. It feels like I re-broke the bone, but I can and have been baring weight so it can't be a break. I really pushed it the whole rainy day Friday and by bedtime I was in pain. It didn't improve overnight as I expected and I was up on the crutches a good part of Saturday too. So, my fond hope is that all though I stayed in the chair today and it's pretty much the same it will be gone tomorrow.

They always ask before therapy sessions "any groin pain?" in a concerned tone and up until now I always said no. I'm pretty sure a weekend of groin pain is a bad sign. Grumble. In the meantime it's really hard for me to admit to pain so no one knows how bad off I've been.

Tonight when I tearfully admitted how bad it hurt Mike said the worst thing you can EVER say to me when I make such an admission. He said "Maybe it's in your head." I was shaking with anger as I explained the extremely logical reason why I knew the pain was real. Then he suggested if therapy on top of my day to day routine was too much I should stop going. Hmpft! (but also I'd LOVE to). Who knows, budget and distance cry out for no more copays and trips across town. I've done enough to have a solid home program now. The only thing I'd miss is having someone to stretch me. Maybe I will quit...I really don't know what's best for me anymore.

Rest assured though if Mike ever tells me pain is in my head again I will break his fingers and tell him the pain is in his head. Seriously, I told him once he's experienced 7yrs of chronic pain and has 21 surgeries under his belt he is welcome to posit any theory he wishes unsolicited, but until then I'm the expert.

Good healing thoughts directed at my hip friends. I really need my body on my side for a few weeks.

And...Nobody Cares

It was a whirlwind of kids and hurrying this morning and then off to physical therapy. I live on the other side of town from therapy so I often try to think of other things I can accomplish in the area to make the most of the trip. It's pretty silly because without exception I am wrecked after therapy and barely make it home.

However, efficiency trumps logic for me every time. I was convinced I needed to run a series of errands to inform people I was getting married in a few weeks even though my name won't change. I had been anxious about there being any kind of financial, medical or other such loose ends. I worked my butt of at therapy. It was one of the most intense sessions to far. I think they get caught up in my enthusiasm and things escalate. I've been less sore post workout each time, but today was an exception.

I shuffled my tired bones to my mom's in the rain and convinced her to hit a drive thru for lunch and "keep me company on some errands". Once I had a belly full of McNuggets and fries I was sure we could knock out two of my biggies in an hour. Turns out I was almost right.

The first errand involved us getting there, walking in and discovering that they didn't care/need to know. It was five minutes tops. The second errand involved us impressively getting turned around despite the two GPS's between us. It was brief miscalculation though. Then I waited my turn to hear yet again that they do not care about my martial status at all. Huh. In the end it turned into a "while you're here let's make some updates/changes". I was there an hour in total.

I was wrecked between the wet weather, the PT and all the running around. Whoa. It started to feel like I'd re-broken my hip. It seems weird to me, in a society where everyone makes such a big deal about being legally married, that so little will change for us. All our names will stay the same, we won't move, we won't change the bank accounts or really anything about the daily routine. We will have to run out and get the marriage license squared away in about two weeks and there will be some health insurance changes, but that's it. Huh...

Feel the Burn!

Today was the day I got down to the business of getting strong again. I got up and put on my work out clothes. I dropped my kids off and headed off to the other end of town. I psyched myself up by thinking of it this way "Don't most brides hit the gym twice a week before their big day?". Okay. I can do this. It will help me to get serious about bulking up. My mood will certainly improve and maybe I can lose the crutches for the wedding.

So, for like the thousandth time I started physical therapy. We started by warming up on the recumbent bike. First of all, I am the smallest adult size human to use that equipment. Second my foot kept sliding off the pedal even with the rubber strap tightened all the way. He ended up tying them on with therabands. At this point I discovered I am still incapable of pedaling all the way through, although I was hopeful. At least, I was incapable of it when pedaling the normal way. Instead I pedaled backwards with my feet tied to the pedals for 10mins.

We followed that up with stepping up and down with alternating feet. Way easier one side than the other. I did standing to sitting, side stepping up an incline (one side and then the other), leg lifts, crouching to standing against the wall, hip stretches and bridges. When I was done I was tired and sore, but remarkably still standing. I felt good. The endorphins were flowing and I felt accomplished. I felt invincible and hungry.

As the day wore on I ate to satiate my reinvigorated appetite and drank water like it was going out of style. By dinner it was time for Advil and an ice pack. The therapist warned me I'd reach the peak of soreness within 48hrs. From where I'm sitting just now, that's troubling.

I have a parent teacher conference to attend at 8:45am. I hope I can move in the morning. So, I'm going to ice my hip and watch Once Upon A Time and pray the inflammation goes down before morning.

Slumber Party!

Last night was Riley second slumber party ever. It was her first sleep over at Grandma's. We got there at dinner time. We watched Princess Diaries and had breakfast for dinner. It was fun. Riley even talked Grandma into a cookie before bed.

After her cookie Riley had a bath in Grandma's tub which was super duper exciting. Than she climbed into Grandma's biiiiiig princess bed to listen to a story and went to sleep. Such a good girl. After that Mom and I chatted in the living room until I ran out of steam. I slept pretty well on the couch.

Riley woke everyone at 7:45am which was sleeping in to me, but a little early for my Mom. Then we had cartoons and more breakfast foods! Everyone got ready and we waited for M, my cousin's daughter to come play. After the girls shape sorted, their favorite game and shared cookies Riley went down for nap and I went to my physical therapy evaluation.

It was less than a five minute drive. I had packed in a hurry and worn jeans, oops. So, I borrowed a pair of my Mom's sweatpants they were way too big I looked like MC Hammer! I managed, but the drawstring was pulled to it's limits. It took 30min to explain my complicated medical and orthopedic history. He listened slack jawed at the scope of things, repeating the things I said and then asked me to repeat them while he wrote them down.

After the novel of my history was composed I walked for him, he checked my range of motion and we were done. Unfortunately, spending the night with my Mom to save gas was moot because the only other appointment he had this week was tomorrow morning, groan.

I thought about spending the night again, but Riley has dance class Tuesday nights and she missed last week because she was sick. So, we loaded up and went home.

A Sudden Shift

Today, I got up and showered and got dressed to leave the house. Hurray! I took Riley over to play with her friends. I had a nice visit with D. and then I ran over to the mall to pick something up. When I got home it was quiet. Messy and over run with laundry, but quiet. I made a start on cleaning and laundry. More importantly I ate an uninterrupted and unshared lunch and watched something that wasn't Dora the Explorer. Aaaahhh....

I started editing all the blogs that had piled up in my draft box while Riley was sick. What a whiny bunch of writing. Sorry, blog fans. The back to back mall walks have really sapped my energy. I really put some miles on those crutches. Unfortunately, today was also my last physical therapy home visit. He was supposed to come at noon, he called me at 4:30pm. Ugh. I did find somewhere to go for out patient therapy, but it's a hike. Mike is really worried about me driving that far three times a week.

It's been a little intense around here with Riley's illness and the wedding looming. I'm feeling almost manic lately. I'm either so excited and happy about life and the wedding or I'm down in the dumps. Maybe I need more sleep. Yeah, that goes on the list more sleep, more money and more hours in the day, please!

Physical Therapy Drama

The doctor wrote me a prescription on Tuesday. I called Wednesday to the place down the road where I intended to go for physical therapy. Guess what? They no longer have an out patient physical therapy department. Awesome. The next closest hospital didn't either and they thought the first place I called still did. These must have been recent department cuts. I am hopping and praying I don't have to go all the way to the other side of town (with minimal parking) three times a week.

The 3rd closest hospital still had an out patient PT department at least, but I couldn't get anyone on the phone. I know the place on the other side of town that I went to when we lived closer is booked solid for at least 3wks at the moment. Three weeks! I have a deadline, here folks! I'm hoping the smaller closer hospital has a sooner appointment.

My current PT warns against going anywhere that's not a hospital since their cap for insurance coverage is higher. I really hate the way insurance doles out rules and limits for everyone based on no medical knowledge at all. I have a life long neuro-muscular disorder, so how does billing my therapy as a certain number of visits "per incident" make sense? It doesn't.

I was so excited to be discharged from home care and now I'm going to be stuck in limbo or dragging myself across town three times a week. During my last round of therapy I remember parking the car and hiking the two blocks to the door and being worn out when I got there. At least I'm approved for one more week of home visits so I have a little bit of time to sort it out.

My last two surgeries I was under a more minimal insurance and nobody cared whether I got the amount of therapy my doctor prescribed or not. When the insurance ran out I was done. Six visits after the back surgery, six visits after the hip surgery. Instead of 3 times a week for 6-8wks per surgery like I was supposed to.

Grrrrr!

New Treatment

My physical therapist asked ages ago about using "electrical stimulators" to help relax my muscles. I didn't pay much attention to this because growing up this meant TENS units:

They have large sticky pads and a heavy control box. In my experience the low settings did nothing and the high ones hurt like hell. Even when it felt good while it was going I never had lasting effects. I never liked them.

Well, apparently technology has taken a leap forward in the years I wasn't having surgeries. What Steve (my PT) showed up with today was something I'd never seen before which is saying something. It more closely resembled Mortimer the Marker from Picture Pages than a TENS unit.

It was a large pen like object. It had a small display screen and a few buttons, but the end looked like the tip of a pen.

He had me sit in a chair at the dining room table while he used it starting with my back. It felt like nothing when he pressed the end against my skin for the most part, but it was noisy. It's high pitched squealing would change key suddenly and I'd feel a strange vaguely painful sensation.

Apparently, it's a biological stud finder. It's yells until it finds a nerve ending and then it sends feedback. The idea is based on reflexology principles that if you can find the nerve endings you can effect the muscles of the body profoundly. I had a lot of luck with reflexology, but I could never go regularly. I learned why I hate people to touch that spot on my ankle (it's linked to my low back).

While he was using it on my feet and toes to relax my hip muscles I noticed the more it hurt when he found the nerve ending the more dramatic the muscle release I'd feel very shortly after. It was like Kerplunk you knew the microsecond after you begun to pull that stick those marbles were about to rain down. When I stood up after less than 10min with this crazy thing my left foot that has been turning in because of hip tightness since surgery wasn't. It was pointing straight and my foot felt soft. Loose, I'm never loose. It was surreal and lasted until I went to bed.