I made it to the new physical therapist today. It could not have been more different than the last experience. The first lady treated me like I was making the entire thing up, but this doc and his assistant took me very seriously. I could tell from the first moment, when he had me walk 15 feet toward his assistant, and they immediately began evaluating my stride and build out loud to each other. Within a few minutes, he knew everything about me, and saw things I had no idea were so obvious. For example, I always sit sideways on the floor, with my legs curled around to the left. All I had to do was stand with my feet shoulder width apart, and he could totally tell how differently my hips had developed over the decades. I felt like I was being picked apart by Temperance Brennan from Bones. I didn't know anyone actually had that crazy level of skill.
After a two hour evaluation and initial session of stretching, I feel like I have a great chance of improvement now. I had very little faith in the last therapist, but now I am very excited to see how the next few months play out. Not only did he accept immediately that my problem was real, he explained to me how everything that went wrong last year was related. It started last spring, with an injury to the ball of my left foot. It never seemed to fully heal, but I thought I should just get used to it, after the doc showed me it wasn't broken, and sent me to buy better shoes. It was three months later that the left shin decided to ruin my life. After stumping four or five professionals who couldn't figure out what muscle could possibly be wrecked, this doc and his resident showed me that it was all the exact same grouping, causing both problems. I definitely feel like I had a workout today, and all I did was stretch. But for the first time, I stretched the right things the right direction.
I have been forgiven for leaving, I think. Either that, or every girl cat has decided to pin me down and ensure that I can never leave again. I have not had a moment to myself. Even my melancholy baby, who I worked on heavily to draw out of her shell, has been glued to me since we came back from Colorado. My younger daughter asked why she hadn't been inundated by cat pictures since we returned. I think it is because they were so close to me I had trouble squeezing a camera between us. I've tried to make up for the lack of pictures since she complained. I was driving through the Bonfire neighborhood today, and saw a hand-painted sign for free kittens. While I would have enjoyed seeing them, I knew what was waiting for me at home, and didn't even slow down. There's plenty of kittens here, and not enough of me to go around.
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