Balance & Strength

Balance and strength. Balance and strength. Balance and strength.

That is what the physical therapist told me we are focusing on, and what I need to repeat to myself as I’m going about the day.

Right before physical therapy today, I was on an emotional rollercoaster. Earlier this morning, I picked up my ankle braces (which are used only for extended trips, as we are focusing on me naturally building ankle strength, and are interestingly made by the same company who constructed the prosthetic tail of famous Winter the Dolphin.) All went fine with the appointment, except for my peeing my pants as I walked. I started to cry out of embarrassment, but Jim picked me up as he always does and made me feel worlds better.

Once I settled back at home, I had “accidents” twice more and felt completely deprived of my humanity. I aged 70 years in a week. It was — no pun intended — a rather pissy situation.

I cleaned up myself and the floor the best I could and no sooner did my physical therapist, Darla, come by. She could tell I felt defeated, embarrassed and upset, but she had confidence in me.

“Balance and strength. That’s what we are going to work on,” Darla said.

For about an hour, Darla showed me the more challenging exercises for my condition and to help me push myself to heal faster.

“You’re a Do’er,” Darla told me. “You’re going to get tired, and this is going to push you more than you probably ever have been. But you have an athletic side and you can do this.”

She gave me a list of exercises for me to do two to three times a day, with 10 to 15 repetitions. I felt invigorated — and exhausted! — after our session, but treated my list of exercises just as I did before all this happened. If I set time aside to do these exercises like before, Darla explained, I’ll make a full recovery in no time.

You may be surprised by the level of vulnerability I write in my posts, but it is only a reminder to myself that I must keep pushing through and stay dedicated to my goals. I honestly hate my walker, (or moreso hate that I have one), and almost wanted to chuck it out the window right before my session. I could do without the occasional accidents, and feeling like a 95-year-old woman.

Yet in my being vulnerable and honest, I can dig deep and pull out the strength to make it through the day, and how to balance it all.

Balance and strength. That is what we are working on.


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