PT means physical terrorist

Oh the joys of showing the therapist just how hard you have been working on the PT treatments you have been given!

Oh the exhilaration of being granted new exercises to do!

Oh the splendor of getting to perform the full compliment of your exercises plus all the new ones and then do a sprint trial with the walker while hobbling along on one leg!!

Can you sense my excitement?

Feel the palpable sense of accomplishment?

Suck back the wind like Secretariat in the home stretch? Eat pain pills like they are candy?

Yep, that has been my day.

While I am both pleased and gratified that I have made progress, I can attest that it has come at a nice steep price. I get it... no pain, no gain.  No pain, no pain pills. No pain, no reason for me to cry.

And I am girl so I am entitle to cry if I want to. And I wanted to.

Going crazy being at home, but right now being at home is the safe place for me to be. While I would like to get out, I confess to being scared to death to do so. I'm afraid to be in a car going ANYWHERE because I don't trust the other drivers on the road.

Previous experience has made me that way.

This is my third go round with someone using their bigger vehicle to smash into me and attempt to turn me into a pile of mush. And each of the two previous times, the other party pretty much skips off scott free and I wind up aching and bruised and bloody.

THIS JUST AIN'T FAIR!!! And I want my Momma!!

SIGH!

I long for the sense of personal ability that is just out of reach. I desire the ability to shower or pee without help. I'd love to be able to just feel free to ride in or drive a car somewhere. Anywhere.

But right now, my biggest desire is to just get to feeling better. To be able to breathe without it hurting. To be able to stand up with both legs instead of grinding my way up with one and my upper body strength. To lie down in my regular bed beside my husband instead of spending my nights in a  hospital bed cuddling up with a stuffed cow and a raccoon head.

I'll stop the whiny butt express train. It's  hard to always be cheerful. Especially when I sometimes feel like I'm being cheerful for the benefit of everyone else. Crying doesn't do much but waste water most of the time, but sometimes, it's all I want to do.

Trying to find the plan, the purpose and the good in all of this is in rather short supply right now. It's not intentional, but I do feel a bit like a boxcar on a siding with the grass growing through the tracks and the winding vines of morning glories climbing their tendrils gently through my buffers, my railings and my wheels. Picturesque it may seem, but it can also be somewhat lonely.

God has a plan. I'm sure He does. I'm trying to understand exactly what it is and how to apply it. I'm sure in His own due time, all will be unfolded to my understanding. Or not.

Right now, I'm just ready to lie down and try to rest and hope tomorrow is a better day.