Friday, January 28, 2011

Ankle Arthroscopy ( Physical Therapy Day 1)

The first day of physical therapy saw another small storm system drop a few more inches of heavy wet snow onto the area which was just enough for me to call and confirm that the therapist’s office was open.

After I received confirmation that the appointment was still on I looked at the clock and realized that I would be cutting it close with the additional hurtle of removing all of the new snow off of our car.

But then I always haven an ace when it comes to snow, and since my wife wasn’t going to work she obliged me with getting my act together so that we made it there on time.

You know how you talk to someone and a little bit of them and then a little bit of you will trickle out into the details?

This was the case of our conversation with the receptionist, a stylish lady who gave me a glimpse of her past which happened to coincide with my present, which showed me yet again just how small the world really is.

Onto my therapist, who was working as a “stand in” (if you will), for the person I will be assigned to for the remainder of my P.T. sessions.

An auburn haired and bespectacled gem that was quite the character in her own right, she simplified the process for someone like me who doesn’t always pick up on the subtle hints on how to heal.

She was wonderful as she quickly identified and entertained the fact that I am the sum total of a child yet still trapped in a man’s body and that it takes a fair amount of scolding for me to get the point of what I need to do for recovery.

In her paisley “Dansko’s” she took measurements of my ankles to show me what I needed to work on and just how much range of motion I had lost, and then before I knew it she had given me some home work for “range of motion" exercises and sent me on my way.

(Many people in this process have told me that I needed to do these things, this therapist was the first to explain to me the "why"...)

In the amount of time that it took me to gather myself and put my “Robo-boot” back on, my wife and several of the therapist had conspired to restrain me from what I would like to and developed a plan to make me focus on what I had to do to recover.

This story continues with the fact that while I have had a common surgery with a common recovery, I have met some uncommon people along the way…


The "goniometer" used to measure "range of motion" for my ankle