This week has been a wild ride full of highs and lows. Yesterday was probably the worst day of my life so far. I lost my grandfather to cancer after he fought it for several years. He just celebrated his 85th birthday Monday. My family and I all went to visit him the Saturday before his birthday and brought him a cake–chocolate, his favorite. He was still able to eat at that point, so I’m glad he got to enjoy it. The changes that took place this week were so fast it was hard to believe. I visited him again on Tuesday and he wasn’t awake the whole time we were there. Then yesterday I went down to see him and it was obvious it was going to be one of the last times. He wasn’t very lucid, but he opened his eyes when I spoke to him. I mostly just sat next to him and held his hand, making sure to tell him how much I loved him. He couldn’t respond back, so I just talked about whatever came into my head so he knew he had some company. He passed away just a few hours after I left. I wish I had been able to be there so he didn’t have to go alone, but having to depend on a ride makes it hard to control your own schedule. His passing was something we were all anticipating for a while, but it still hurts deeply.
As far as my first week of physical therapy is concerned, all is going well. My range of motion is already improving noticeably. I can’t work on strength for a few weeks yet, but I can bear my full weight on my right foot now as long as it’s in the boot. I can’t put a lot of weight on it without it, so I’m still going from station to station at therapy with my crutches. The first time I could climb stairs without having to crawl up and down them or use a crutch was amazing. It’s nice to feel more normal now and be able to walk without the extra help of crutches. I can’t walk very fast, but I can walk! I’m trying to celebrate the little victories and take things as they come.
I love my physical therapy clinic. I live in a small town, so a lot of the businesses have that characteristic charm to them. I’ve even done a couple of sessions with my neighbor this week; I didn’t know he was still going there. Everyone at the clinic is so friendly, and you get to know the other patients there in addition to the staff. I was in stitches listening to the conversations this morning. I barely noticed how much the manual therapy was hurting because I spent a lot of that time laughing. It’s not exactly pleasant having my scars, fasciae, and muscles massaged. It’s definitely not relaxing like a spa massage is. When the therapist hits a knot or rubs the scar where the screws in my heel are, it’s very painful. I try to bear with it the best I can because it’s going to be beneficial one day, but the screw area is still incredibly tender. I’m hoping that by the time I start wearing normal shoes in 5 or 6 weeks, it won’t hurt so much to have pressure on it.
I’m so excited at the improvements I’ve made in my first week. I know I still have a long way to go, but seeing improvement this quickly is really motivating. I think I worry my therapist a little bit, though, because he’s told me twice this week to make sure I don’t overdo things and to take things slow so I don’t anger my tendon and ankle. He knows me too well, because I really do need to be reminded of that. I’ve always been someone who tends to go overboard, for better or for worse. I’m not good at seeing that fine line between enough and too much, so I’m even more grateful I’m able to work with someone who knows me and my case well.













