Therapy once again. And again.

I have been super busy these past few weeks. I’m in the middle of my third and fourth physical therapy sessions.

I have been going to one facility in the town I live in, three times a week. And I’ve been doing aquatic therapy one or two times a week in a town about 35 minutes from home. It was the closest place with an indoor pool.

This time around we have been focusing on strengthening exercises.

Like the other times I’ve done physical therapy, its very beneficial on several levels. But my knees are still not a single degree straighter while standing.

And after nearly eight months of almost continuous dieting I’ve only lost 7 or 8 pounds. So at this rate it will only take another seven years to lose it all. Hahahahahah. Ridiculous.

Anyways when I showed up for my first session of aquatic therapy I didnt know what to expect. The brochures the doctors gave me looked nice and said it would be a one on one therapy session.

Well I walked into the building that day to find two pools. One was nearly empty. Just a little old lady and a very large man. On the other half of the building was an entire high school swimming team that consisted of about 30 very fit and in shape teenagers. Talk about humiliating. I had to sit on a bench and wait for the therapist to show up. He came in and asked me if I was ready. (While waiting I decided there was no way in hell I would ever swim there)

I told him that I didn’t think I wanted to do it anymore. And that I didn’t know that there would be so many people there. He just looked at me with a confused look on his face and asked me why that would matter…

Because….they’ll see me…..(duh)

He just looked confused again and asked why that would matter.

Is he really that unfamiliar with disabled people having……I dunno…insecurities? Apparently it was a completely foreign concept.

I felt stupid and let him show me where I could change. I sat in a stall crying for a good fifteen minutes. Then I finally emerged from the stall and looked in the mirror and started up all over again.

I’m sure I looked completely ridiculous when I finally emerged. Haha. It’s a wee bit funny looking back, but it was terrible at the time. I had to walk through the front lobby. I had wrapped a giant pink towel around me. And I was hobbling about with my cane and trying to carry my purse and bag of clothes, while trying to walk with my head down so no one would see my tear streaked face.

By the time I got back into the room with the pools, about a dozen more people were there. The life guards were all changing shifts and a bunch of kids had arrived.

And of course, like everytime I go anywhere people had to stop and stare at me struggling to get in the pool.

I could have just died of humiliation.

But I did it. And have done it several more times. I enjoy the actual therapy part.

I just wish I could see the difference. I might be more excited then.

I also had another doctors visit. I told my doctor about the trouble I’ve been having with sleeping. She prescribed me some muscle relaxers. Which only manage to get me extremely relaxed while staying very much awake. Haha.

Also, my inflammation markers are still high after nine months on Enbrel. Im not sure what the next step is.

I like my new physical therapist in my home town. He is this older man that seems to genuinely care. And he seems to actually know what he’s talking about. And the nurses are very sweet. What is it about nice nurses that make can make or break a doctors appointment? Its amazing what a kind word or a pat on the shoulder can do sometimes. A little compassion can go a long way. And I’ve met quite a few people in the health care world that could work on having a little.

Besides that, not much has changed. I’ve been out taking photos a couple times. We have been having a very unusual temperature spikes lately. Its the middle of winter and eighty degrees one day and thirty the next. That’s Texas though.