Today was not a fun day at therapy. I ended up in tears and was so incredibly grateful to be the only patient in the neuro gym at that moment. It wasn't pretty. I panicked on attempting to try the elliptical machine when I couldn't make it move and in my panic came back the debilitating wobbly falter that I have been working so hard to overcome these past months. I was shaky, my stomach turned to knots in my fear and I couldn't speak nor could I stop the tears that fell at my defeat.
Honestly, I think I had a lot going on inside my already upset soul today and the moment of terror just set me off. It happens. I had another upsetting rough ending at our family Sunday (but held on the long weekend Monday) dinner last night and even just getting to therapy had been stressful today. I had asked my mom last Friday if the boys could visit at her house during my physiotherapy appointments this week, both on Tuesday (today) and Thursday afternoons from 2:30 - 4:00 and then Enz would drop me off to wait and visit until he was finished at work; it just seemed easier since driving me home would take him an extra hour which would mean an extra late dinner after he went back in to finish up. Anyhow, all of this was "Not a problem!" my mom assured me. I am a worrier and if I don't have things set up for my boys care and comfort while I need to be out, well, I'm pretty much a basket case trying to sort out their happiness with my necessary therapy. For this week, I had sorted everything out as soon as I received my weekly schedule and I was grateful and settled... until dinner last night when my mom mentioned casually, "I have to cook a roast tomorrow..." I asked her, "You HAVE to cook a roast tomorrow?? Why do you HAVE to cook a roast tomorrow?" So she then explained that she had invited the two young adults, I'll call them Adam and Tommy, who call her 'Gramma' (but are not actually related) over for dinner along with Tommy's girlfriend. That's when I started to panic because I had no time to fix things, no time to cancel my therapy and I didn't have any choice BUT to cancel my boys visit to her house. I know I got snippy at this point but I was scrambling to make new arrangements in my mind, I was angry and I was thrown. Why hadn't she told me this when I had asked in the first place??? "Tommy's met the boys before," my mom said easily. "And I'm not okay with that," I replied angrily. "They love meeting people..." she started... I interrupted with, "Yes, but I get to choose who they meet!" I know I sounded snarky but that the only way, unfortunately, that I can seem to get my mother to hear me on important issues and my boys are my MOST important issue.
I'm sure you're thinking 'woaaahhhhh... overreact much??!' but I promise you, I am not. My mom is not the greatest judge of character and has been burned many times in the proving; she's a good person who wants to believe that everybody is good and well-meaning and is, quite frankly, willing to ignore danger signs in order to keep believing in people who, years down the line, show her the warnings she overlooked. She tells me time and time again that I am too hard on people and that I need to cut people more slack but I somehow always know upon first meeting whether I can trust someone or not... I listen to that voice of my gut that tells me the truth and not only do I listen but I heed that every truth. My mom either doesn't have that gut voice or she just chooses to ingnore it and too many times she has called to tell me I was right before she sets into explaining the horrible and sometimes criminal happenings with those she has believed in. I know she loves and believes in Tommy but there was a time, not so long ago when Tommy was extremely angry and rightfully so since he had a pretty horrible upbringing full of things that children should never have to deal with. Unfortunately, he worked some of that anger out by terrorizing, terrifying and intimidating my moms beautiful souled and extremely placid dog, Derby. When a one-hundred-sixty-seven pound Newf/Husky mix starts to run, cower, shake and hide the instant someone steps foot inside the house, there is a HUGE problem. My mom swore she would never let Tommy be around Derby again and instead spent her time with him out of her house by going shopping or for dinner or the movies... for awhile. "Oh Tommy's not angry anymore and Derby seems much more relaxed when he's over....." Again she believes what she wants to over what's already been proven. Maybe the kid has changed and grown into a kinder person and I really do hope it's true, but I can tell you for absolute certain that my boys will not be the 'testers' of her belief in this issue. Apparently, I was ridiculous for having said, "But I get to choose who my dogs meet." My boys have been through more than their share of harshness in their lives and now that I am their mama, I will protect them even if I am considered ridiculous, it's just the way it is.
I'm known as an over-protective pup mama and for that fact, I make absolutely NO apologies! I love my dogs, more than I could ever even try to explain and I will protect them with everything that I am for as long as we share our lives together. I give up a lot to make sure my boys are cared for to the standards I believe they deserve and I give every one of those things up willingly. I rarely ask for pup-sitters but on those rare occasions I need to... if I have asked someone to care for my boys when I have to be out, they can consider it my highest compliment that I am secure in trusting that they will treat my Day and Play with nothing but love and respect during that time.
Thank goodness my Pa-in-law had been able to take care of my boys on such short notice. Still, the panic and upset were not easily shaken... as so ineloquently proven in my neuro gym meltdown.
After I had stopped my tears, Julie had me take some really deep breaths before setting me up on the Nu-Step machine for twenty minutes to try to help calm my again-jerky movements before we even attempted working on trying to fine tune my walking steps. It was pretty awful and I don't think I've really felt quite that desolate at a therapy session since my first weeks in the program. But I started to feel more relaxed, able and ready to work around the fifteen minute mark of the Nu-Step program.
The walking steps are getting harder rather than easier, Julie tells me, because we are being more picky about movement and placement... refining the mechanics. Getting my legs to obey my brain is pretty incredibly hard but I am moving easier and not nearly exhausted by each movement as I once was. The quad cane didn't work for me and I ended up with a sprained wrist which left me in immense pain even trying to use my walker afterward. The single cane didn't work for me and I hurt my other wrist trying that one. Today we tried arm walking sticks (I refuse to call them crutches) and I did really well with them. My balance was good, my posture was great and my walking steps were controlled and even, dare I say, a might quicker than ever... well, since this whole ordeal happened anyhow! I was hoping I could just get away with using a single arm stick but even though I proved to need the pair, it will still be a graduation from the walker and they will offer me more independence for which I am grateful.
In all, it was a day that began emotionally and embarrassingly-traumatically but it did end on an okay note. Yes, there are times when arrangements may leave me in a panicked lurch but I learned that a few minutes of mindless exercise can help calm the anxieties of worry and fear.
Physiotherapy - Appointment 25: (September 8, 2016.)
We went straight for the GUSTO this afternoon... Camelot Hill!
I`ve always been taken in with the legend of King Arthur in Camelot so it seemed somehow a fitting spot for my first outdoor, extremely steep, concrete hill descent/climb trial. When I started to stand as I saw Julie coming down the hallway toward me for our appointment she stopped me, saying... "No no, just stay sitting right there. We are doing something newwww today... let me just put this around you....." she said as she reached to wrap the familiar safety belt snugly around my ribcage. After I was buckled safely within she stood back to look at me. "We... are going outside today. To the Camelot hill. You are reaaady for this. You're legs are strong enough now. Are you ready for this?" I suddenly felt myself beginning to crumple inside at even just the thought and I answered her cautiously, "I'm ready for the Camelot hill... but I'm not ready to be outside in public on a busy street....." And then I took a long, deep breath and steeled myself into moving toward the doorway and I prayed for the strength and courage of every Camelot Knight, ever to have lived, to help get me through this test of strength being asked of me.
As soon as we were through the doors and outside, Julie had me sit on one of the entryway benches so she could quickly go over walker safety necessities with me before we started out; just basics like holding on with brake grips at the ready for use, how to tilt the walker when going up curbs or on uneven ground (of which I will share a video of my ridiculousness... I had NO idea!) along with proper posture for descending and then for climbing back up once we were to reach our turnaround point at the bottom of the hill. When I felt ready, off we went!
It took a really long time for me to get down that hill but with Julie reminding me to go as slowly as I needed to and keeping me on the straight between the sidewalk edges I actually did make it all the way down. I was so nervous and worried that I would be in the way of people walking but Julie kept assuring me that I needed to stay in the middle so my walker wouldn't accidentally slip off the edge causing me to stumble or maybe even fall. My first instinct every time I saw someone coming near was to get out of their way and I would stop to try to figure out how I could be courteous. Julie had to keep reminding me that I needn't feel in the way for walking outside and that it is not only much easier for fully able walkers to move around me but it's also safer for everyone. It makes sense in theory but it's hard to make the necessary safety changes for myself when I've always been taught and encouraged to consider the needs of others over my own. There were a lot of people walking and a lot of cars passing but I managed to keep my embarrassment as hidden as I could while I stared only toward my every next step until finally we were at the bottom of the hill of Camelot.
We stopped at the bottom so I could sit and have a quick rest before starting our climb. Believe it, or not, but climbing that massive hill was way easier than going down had been. Once I realized that the weight-shifting was just exactly as it is with climbing stairs it became a snap, a snap of an exhausting muscle workout, but a snap in getting the hang of which gives me immense hope of full recovery since my legs caught on to the new movement so quickly. We were up the hill in half the time going downward had taken and though it was a tiring workout, I felt pure and utter proud at what an accomplishment it was to have survived and done well.
I had a few minutes of rest before making one round of the long corridor before our therapy end for the day and I did really well with that, too... I did falter a few times and my right foot wasn't as cooperative as it has been of late but Julie told me it was likely just because of the exhaustion of the day with both the physical efforts of Camelot Hill and with the emotional worries of being out in public. But she had nothing but praise for all I had done and told me I had earned myself a good long rest as soon as I got home. I'm not a 'napper' but I walked into the house, curled up on the end of the bed ('cause I was just too tired to make it the extra steps to get into bed properly and I conked out cold for over an hour!
It was a good day.
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