Thursday, March 16, 2017

Rollicking Times at PT

Hey, how does my typing look? Can you tell I have two spanking-new titanium knees?

Well, actually, they're a month and a half old now, totally broken in. But still. I am not the woman I used to be! Hear me bionically roar!

For whatever reason, I am having a picture-perfect knee surgery recovery (with one small weird exception). Surgery itself went faster than expected; I did extremely well with both physical (PT) and occupational therapy (OT) in the hospital; I continued to do well at home and was promoted to outpatient PT weeks ahead of schedule; and now I'm rocking outpatient. I think I should get a crown.

The small weird exception is that I turned out to be allergic to cefazolin, a cousin of penicillin, which was used during my surgery, and my entire stay in rehab was punctuated by a violent angry red rash that covered my whole body and burned and itched, which no one on my medical team diagnosed correctly for almost a week. Buttheads.

Rehab . . . just isn't a lot of fun.
They tried to make me go to rehab
I said, no, no, no
It had its moments, and maybe I'll share some of those stories sometime, but today I'm focused on the now.

Or, actually, a few hours before now. I'm focused on 9:40 a.m. today, when I had my third or fourth appointment with Alex the Charm Devil, my physical therapist, whom I love deeply and want to murder.
Isn't he adorable? But the devil, I swear.
I was ten minutes late because my lunkhead son, whom I paid to clean off my car after this week's blizzard, neglected to remove the foot of snow directly behind it, which has now frozen solid; it took significant time and effort to chip away at Ice Mountain. But Alex greeted me so sweetly and had me warm up on the stationary bike, as per usual.
  • Alex the Charm Devil: How have things been going?
  • Me: OK. I think my bend is right where it should be, but I still can't seem to fully straighten.
  • Alex: We'll work on that today, then.
He takes me to a padded table and has me lie down with my ankles propped up on a firm tube. Lying in this position with my knees dangling a little is my least favorite PT exercise, I'm supposed to do it for 20 minutes, I start whimpering after 5, it hurts. But I know it's good for me — this is the best way to get my leg to fully straighten.

So I'm already uncomfortable — and THEN, Alex starts leaning on my knee so it straightens even further

I yelp in pain.
  • Alex: You OK?
  • Me: NO!!!!!!!!!!
  • Alex: We're just going to do a couple of these, OK?
  • Me: [whimper whimper]
  • Alex: And by a couple, I mean five.
Well, now I am outraged.
  • Me: FIVE? FIVE? Five is not a COUPLE, Alex!! Who taught you WORDS????
Alex starts laughing.
  • Me: Oh my God! This is just what the Supreme Court predicted when they let the gays marry! First gay marriage, then we start redefining what a "couple" is! Five — why not??
Alex is bent over laughing, though he's still pressing on my leg like the devil he is.
  • Me: OW!!! Wait, this is because I was late, isn't it?
  • Alex: (laughs) That was three.
  • Me: BELIEVE ME, I KNOW it was three!!!
He continues to press, I continue to yelp and whimper. He moves to the other leg.
  • Alex: OK, now that was three.
  • Me: I KNOW.
  • Alex: If I'd said it was four, would you have corrected me?

 Finally, finally, the torture ends. He says, "We'll go work on the step now." I said, "Could I have a rest???" He smiled so sweetly and said, "Yes, and a hug."

Oh, how I love Alex. Even though he is the Devil.

After I'd been doing my step exercises for a while, I said, "Hey Alex, remember the first time I saw you and you put heat on my knees and all I did was lie still under the heating pad? Why don't we do that exercise any more?"
  • Alex: That was our first date, Lady.
  • Me: I see. So you just take me for granted now.
  • Alex: You could put heat on before you come.
  • Me: Oh, okay, I have to do it myself. Your days of giving me heat are OVER. That's what you're saying?
He starts laughing again, then says to another client, "I'm going to massage your knee for a few minutes." I mutter darkly, "You used to massage me."

(Though, frankly, the massage hurt like blazes because his goal was to break up any scar tissue forming. Not relaxing, in other words.)

I punched him in the arm when I left (you know — lovingly) and he said, "Great fun as always, Lady." I laughed bitterly. Whatever the opposite of fun is, I now have a vivid illustration.

I asked the front desk ladies if they could hear me screaming, and they smiled so sweetly and said, "Oh, yes — all the way out here."

Charm devils. Every one of them.

I had planned to go grocery shopping afterward, but instead I came home and curled up with an ice bag. Ice has become my new chardonnay, my new bubble bath, my new every good thing.

Well, ice and The Night Of, which I am totally obsessed with. Parts 3–5 came from Netflix today, I may have to rip open the envelope and watch them all right now. So so so so good!!!!!

OK — my big goal was to write something, anything, on this blog, so now I have. The ice is broken!

And I've lost 10 pounds since my surgery without even really trying. Thrilling! (Except my weight had been up ridiculously right before surgery, so I'm right back where I started. Still. It's always nicer to lose weight than to gain, so I'm happy.)


— Bionic Lady C