Friday, January 11, 2019, 3:00 p.m.
I didn’t know how I should feel about today’s physical therapy appointment, whether I should look forward to it or dread it. It’s been one week short of two months since I’ve seen Francis, but it seems like much longer. A lot has happened since November 19. We’ve had Thanksgiving and Christmas. I’ve survived the one-year anniversary of Barley’s death, and celebrated the one-year anniversary of adopting Emily. I’ve gotten my new hearing aids and my new glasses. And today takes me right up to the first Saturday in six weeks that we have not had somewhere to go. I do not have to cook anything tonight. I do not have to update a prayer journal for Church 1.0.
Francis was very prompt to get me at 3 o’clock. We made small talk as we went back to his office. The weather, whatever. As usual, he scanned his monitor for my medical records. I had to admit to him that I had not done my exercises as much as I should have (I just didn’t tell him how much I hadn’t!). I said I walked every week when we went shopping and he said that counts.
Then he said, “Are you ready to weigh in, since it’s the beginning of a new year?”
“Sure!” I said, thinking the phrase “weigh in” just meant to check my physical therapy progress–or lack thereof. But his words were literal.
“Okay, then,” he said, standing up and motioning toward the door. “We need to go out here around the corner.”
I followed him out to the hallway and around the corner where there was a digital scale. He turned it on, waited for it to show a 0.0, and then I stepped onto it. 135.3 lbs. Well, that’s good, considering my weight at home this morning was 133.6 lbs.
As hard as I tried to not talk so much about my personal stuff, I don’t think I was very successful. Because all my “personal stuff” has a direct relationship to my chronic pain. I told him I hadn’t done anything about pursuing a mental health appointment but thought maybe I should have another appointment with Julie (Dr. Whitehead, the Pain Psychologist), if only to get some recommendations from her. For individual counseling, for group therapy, whatever would be appropriate for an old 72-year-old woman suffering from old-age depression!
Just to check, he looked at my last lab results and saw that I was still within an acceptable range with my diabetes, and of course I told him I still eat low-carb and sometimes I even fast. I told him about my first 24-hr. fast and about my most recent 60-hr. fast (after Christmas dinner).
Somehow I got onto the subject of when Dr. Chan told me, “At your age, there is nothing I can prescribe for your pain,” followed by my summary of getting Flexeril from Dr. Sumetanon, then the pain meds from Dr. Kalra. And the benefits that I took away from the 5-week Pain Management Program last January and February.
I wondered if he was going to check my range of motion today but I didn’t ask. He seemed to sense that I sort of expected something, though, so he said, “I have a new exercise I’d like to show you. I call it the ‘lighthouse’.” He told me to sit on the edge of my chair, facing him, and he went through the three parts, asking me to mirror his movements.
I had told him that I thought I could do well with appointments every other month for awhile, instead of every month. “How far out do you have your calendar now?” I asked.
He looked. “Oh, it’s available now clear until June!”
“Well, how about mid March?” So he scheduled me for Friday, March 15, again at 3:00 p.m.
He sent a message to Julie, asking her to call me to set up an appointment. So I will wait for that.
As he was walking me out, Francis mentioned that today has been a good time for my appointment because he’s leaving for the Philippines on Monday.
I laughed. “Seems like you did this at this same time last year!”
“Oh, yes,” he confirmed, “but this year, I’ll not only have the ten-day mission trip, but we’re taking some vacation time after that. We’ll be gone two and half weeks. We won’t be back until the last of January!”
So now I’m glad that my next physical therapy appointment is not until March. It was drizzling by the time I got back outside to the van. I took Emily for a short walk anyway, just long enough for her to pee.
When I got home, I found Francis’ email with the link to the YouTube video and so I watched it. I’ll be glad to have it for a reference until I learn the routine.
Before Linda fixed Emily’s supper, she started dismantling the Christmas tree, then the other decorations, and I helped some, while Emily watched us from her bed and blanket in one of the green chairs. We filled several tubs with Christmas decorations but still have more to do. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe not.
