Look at me: no crutches, no wheelchair, no cane, no nothing! I went to the doctor (the doctor named Dake), more correctly, the physical therapist. I just have urges to quote Seussical, is all.
Starting over because I probably confused you, I don't have to use a cane anymore! I'm a free woman! True I still have an assignment of probably a hundred excersises per night (only a slight exaggeration). My psuedo therapist looked at the sheets of paper in her hands and looked at me, then said: "Wow. This is a lot of excersises." So she said I didn't have to do all of them every night. Which was good, because I would probably expire every night from a combination of boredom and exhaustion, and on top of all that, I wouldn't get any homework done and my grades would suffer along with my entire left leg. And then my leg would fall off which would kind of defeat the point. The point of everything. I said my psuedo therapist. I should explain that for those of you still reading. My old therapist, Julianne, took off to Collierville, never to be my therapist again. So, I guess I don't know who my therapist is anymore. Which doesn't matter, because I don't have to go any more!
At least until my next surgery. So, the reason that I have so many excersises is because I have some foot/ankle issues now. Why? No idea. My therapist thinks I'm overcompensating or something because my left leg is shorter, but really, I have no idea. Which brings me to the reader participation part: If you are reading this, stand up. Either push your chair back or move beside it, to get some room for moving. Now stand on your tippy toes and come back down. That's right. Okay, now do it again, except stop somewhere in the middle. Now imagine a kind of steady pain welling up in the bridge of your foot. That's what is in my foot, when I walk and etc. I wanted to show you where the pain was, as well as imagine all of you standing near your computers with slightly confused looks on your faces. Teehee.
By the way, I have dubbed today Mexican Culture day. Aka: Listen to all of the songs in Spanish that you know, as well as some new ones. Tips: Me cai, or pretty much anything by Pacifika, and Juanes, my favorite is Fotografia.
Showing posts with label walking. Show all posts
Showing posts with label walking. Show all posts
Friday, March 27, 2009
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
New Years?
Ok. I'm a little late. As in half a month late. But I have finally decided on my new year's resolution, even though I decided long ago that they are worthless. My new year's resolution: learn to walk for the third time. Yes, Ladies and Gentlemen. The third time. How many of you can lay claim to that?! Hmm? Hmm? For a status report for those not in the area presently or who just don't see me often or those whom I lie to about my condition (sorry y'all, it gets really tiring to give a full status report to everyone, so you just end up saying "fine" a whole lot): I am practically painless. I'm just waiting, waiting, waiting for the bone to heal. Sometimes my incision hurts cause I stretch it too far when laying on my side, or my muscles decide they don't want to move so that I end up sore, but for the most part, I'm painless. I've started going back to school, in a wheelchair of course, so that I don't fall over and die. The death refers to a HUGE reconstructive surgery I would have to go through and approximately 4 more months of immobility. Yeah. Not happening. But there are some good things that come out of the surgery.
Pros:
*My seven inch scar. Some ask if I have my vitimin E handy, which is a formula that actually reduces scar tissue. The thing is, I have a weird affection and pride for my scars. This scar will be the sixth permanent scar I have. Five are from hip surgery/leg breakage and one is from cracking my head open. In a weird way, they seem to represent all that's happened to me and therefore are a natural part of me. I wouldn't erase them away for the world.
*My dead spot. I actually feel like Mal (Firefly/Serenity) on this one. Instead of having a dead, unfeeling spot in my kidneys, I have a dead, unfeeling, nerveless area about 2 inches to the left of my scar. It's actually pretty neat. I keep getting freaked out though cause I accidentaly feel it, realize I don't and then get the shivers. My dream, though, is to get into a fight and someone stab my in my hip and then I shake the hair out of my eyes and say in a deadly voice "I don't feel that. But you'll feel this!" and then plant a flying kick into their chest. It'll be great!
*The incredible support. Everyone at school, faculty, staff, friends, colleagues, have showed incredible support to make sure I can still learn everything, and go everywhere I need to. It's so amazing.
Cons:
*The explanatory process. I hate explaining to people what happened to me. I don't mind for about two people, but after a while, explaining to everyone what happened is just so tiring. And you can't just run away from the question, cause you're either in a walker or crutches (muletas!) or a wheelchair. One girl who I didn't even know responded this way when I told her I had hip dysplasia: "You mean, the things that dogs get!?" Yes. The things that dogs get.
*The death of spontaneity. Every once in a while you get an impulse. The impulse to tickle someone, to sneak up behind them, or to dance in the rain. All that was taken away for a while. I realized about a week ago that I won't be able to dance for a bit more than two months. Not that I dance professionally, or even as a hobby, but I like to. I do a twirl when I feel happy, I dance when that certain song comes on that just makes you want to move, I move like that all the time. It's so sad to feel that you can't do that anymore.
*Oh yeah, I can't walk.
*Friends you didn't know you had. I won't say her name, but there's a girl at school I am acquainted with. I don't know her that much and really don't care to. But know that I'm in a wheel chair, I'm her best friend. Wow. I'm really working this italics thing, aren't I? People want to push you around everywhere. Personally, it's a little hit on my pride. Like I can't get myself to places, or what?
Well, that's pretty much it. Sorry for my inattentiveness lately. Wow. I seem to apologize everytime I write. Oops. (But I won't apologize.) :D
Pros:
*My seven inch scar. Some ask if I have my vitimin E handy, which is a formula that actually reduces scar tissue. The thing is, I have a weird affection and pride for my scars. This scar will be the sixth permanent scar I have. Five are from hip surgery/leg breakage and one is from cracking my head open. In a weird way, they seem to represent all that's happened to me and therefore are a natural part of me. I wouldn't erase them away for the world.
*My dead spot. I actually feel like Mal (Firefly/Serenity) on this one. Instead of having a dead, unfeeling spot in my kidneys, I have a dead, unfeeling, nerveless area about 2 inches to the left of my scar. It's actually pretty neat. I keep getting freaked out though cause I accidentaly feel it, realize I don't and then get the shivers. My dream, though, is to get into a fight and someone stab my in my hip and then I shake the hair out of my eyes and say in a deadly voice "I don't feel that. But you'll feel this!" and then plant a flying kick into their chest. It'll be great!
*The incredible support. Everyone at school, faculty, staff, friends, colleagues, have showed incredible support to make sure I can still learn everything, and go everywhere I need to. It's so amazing.
Cons:
*The explanatory process. I hate explaining to people what happened to me. I don't mind for about two people, but after a while, explaining to everyone what happened is just so tiring. And you can't just run away from the question, cause you're either in a walker or crutches (muletas!) or a wheelchair. One girl who I didn't even know responded this way when I told her I had hip dysplasia: "You mean, the things that dogs get!?" Yes. The things that dogs get.
*The death of spontaneity. Every once in a while you get an impulse. The impulse to tickle someone, to sneak up behind them, or to dance in the rain. All that was taken away for a while. I realized about a week ago that I won't be able to dance for a bit more than two months. Not that I dance professionally, or even as a hobby, but I like to. I do a twirl when I feel happy, I dance when that certain song comes on that just makes you want to move, I move like that all the time. It's so sad to feel that you can't do that anymore.
*Oh yeah, I can't walk.
*Friends you didn't know you had. I won't say her name, but there's a girl at school I am acquainted with. I don't know her that much and really don't care to. But know that I'm in a wheel chair, I'm her best friend. Wow. I'm really working this italics thing, aren't I? People want to push you around everywhere. Personally, it's a little hit on my pride. Like I can't get myself to places, or what?
Well, that's pretty much it. Sorry for my inattentiveness lately. Wow. I seem to apologize everytime I write. Oops. (But I won't apologize.) :D
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