by Violet Rebecca Jones
I started physical therapy again. Yes, again. I have had so much physical therapy that I probably could pass the physical therapy licensing exam and open my own therapy clinic. I injured my knee several years ago, had surgery, had physical therapy (twice), and my knee proceeded to get worse. It was so bad they decided to stop PT for a while, but my knee has gotten worse with each passing day. So, here I am again, in PT.
First of all, PT is NOT fun. It hurts. I am trying to do things with my knee that my knee has declared off limits, and this can be painful. They assure me that this is good for me, so I try. I grit my teeth, and although they expect me to move 10 inches when I can only move two, they assure me I am "doing great"! I suppose they train all therapists to tell that to the patients so that we will feel like Olympic Athletes in the making and keep working toward that gold medal. I hate to tell them that I would be happy with a tin medal at this point.
Second, PT can be downright embarrassing. There are all these people in there watching you do all these movements to strengthen the knee. Even though I wear pants, I was born and raised in the South, and proper Southern Girls just aren't supposed to move that way. Plus, I am not exactly a svelte fashion model, so I always feel like someone is giggling about how outrageous I must look. The funny thing though is that when I look around to see if anyone really is giggling, no one is. Everyone is too focused on their own struggles with PT. I guess I am not as important as I thought I was!
Third, it can be very daunting, and sometimes self-esteem shattering to see all the young, robust athletes who are doing PT because of a sports injury, and who are complaining because they can't run 100 miles per hour like they did before the injury. Now they can only run 90 miles per hour, but they are working on it. Meanwhile, I am just trying to get up to maybe 1/4 mile per hour. Now I know what my mother meant when she used to tell me, " You're young. It doesn't hurt you like it does me." Young athletes, beware. My mama was right!
There are some things that are interesting about PT. I am amazed by an elderly man who is working to improve his walking, standing, and balance skills following a stroke. He is working so hard, and he never gives up. I hope that I can have that kind of determination when I am his age. I want to clap for him every time he finishes a task, but I don't. I don't want him to know I am watching because, remember, I don't like the idea of people watching me, so I figure he doesn't either. I may be wrong. Maybe I will clap for him one day.
There are also some very good things about PT that I really enjoy. After all the therapy, they put these wonderful ice pads on my knees and allow me to simply lie there quietly on my back and rest. I never dreamed ice could feel so wonderful. It is unbelievably relaxing to lie there, and even though I am on a hard table in a room filled with people I always come close to falling asleep. I must be older than I thought.
Copyright 2014 Violet Rebecca Jones
I started physical therapy again. Yes, again. I have had so much physical therapy that I probably could pass the physical therapy licensing exam and open my own therapy clinic. I injured my knee several years ago, had surgery, had physical therapy (twice), and my knee proceeded to get worse. It was so bad they decided to stop PT for a while, but my knee has gotten worse with each passing day. So, here I am again, in PT.
First of all, PT is NOT fun. It hurts. I am trying to do things with my knee that my knee has declared off limits, and this can be painful. They assure me that this is good for me, so I try. I grit my teeth, and although they expect me to move 10 inches when I can only move two, they assure me I am "doing great"! I suppose they train all therapists to tell that to the patients so that we will feel like Olympic Athletes in the making and keep working toward that gold medal. I hate to tell them that I would be happy with a tin medal at this point.
Second, PT can be downright embarrassing. There are all these people in there watching you do all these movements to strengthen the knee. Even though I wear pants, I was born and raised in the South, and proper Southern Girls just aren't supposed to move that way. Plus, I am not exactly a svelte fashion model, so I always feel like someone is giggling about how outrageous I must look. The funny thing though is that when I look around to see if anyone really is giggling, no one is. Everyone is too focused on their own struggles with PT. I guess I am not as important as I thought I was!
Third, it can be very daunting, and sometimes self-esteem shattering to see all the young, robust athletes who are doing PT because of a sports injury, and who are complaining because they can't run 100 miles per hour like they did before the injury. Now they can only run 90 miles per hour, but they are working on it. Meanwhile, I am just trying to get up to maybe 1/4 mile per hour. Now I know what my mother meant when she used to tell me, " You're young. It doesn't hurt you like it does me." Young athletes, beware. My mama was right!
There are some things that are interesting about PT. I am amazed by an elderly man who is working to improve his walking, standing, and balance skills following a stroke. He is working so hard, and he never gives up. I hope that I can have that kind of determination when I am his age. I want to clap for him every time he finishes a task, but I don't. I don't want him to know I am watching because, remember, I don't like the idea of people watching me, so I figure he doesn't either. I may be wrong. Maybe I will clap for him one day.
There are also some very good things about PT that I really enjoy. After all the therapy, they put these wonderful ice pads on my knees and allow me to simply lie there quietly on my back and rest. I never dreamed ice could feel so wonderful. It is unbelievably relaxing to lie there, and even though I am on a hard table in a room filled with people I always come close to falling asleep. I must be older than I thought.
Copyright 2014 Violet Rebecca Jones
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