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.