With my wife back at work this week I kicked my rehab program into much higher gear. There’s only one way out of this handicapped life and it’s through exercise. Some people view physical therapy as torture but for me it is simply an extension of my Broga life, not as interesting, but effective nonetheless and I embrace it.
At the Tropic Sunday we arrived early for the movie so I wheeled myself around the lobby while Layne bought the tickets. I’ve never been fond of high tables in bars and restaurants so these days as I’m forced to sit at waist height I loathe them even more. I need to get out of the chair. At home yesterday I applied myself to the exercises my Key West therapist Teresa had given me for homework.
I saw her again after I had lunch with a friend and she sent me home with even more homework. Lift my legs, stretch my legs, stand up without using my arms, squeeze my thighs and so forth. I took the illustrations home and set up my elastic bands and my straps and my inflated ball. Then I went for a walk round the pool with my walker. Then I came home for a nap before Layne and a Rusty got home from work. Tuesday I am at home with Rusty and my therapy equipment. I shall sweat in private. It’s the only way to learn to walk again and I can’t wait.
Rusty heals his torn tendon with rest and he must hurt because resting comes easily to him these days. My plan is to exercise as much and as often as I can stand it so I can get to my walking life as soon as possible. It’s all I think of at the moment