It’s over. I asked for and received a pardon from my physical therapist and am free free free. The caveat is that I need to continue my Pt on my own, but that is not hard. I’m back at the CYMCA in Red Bank, and happily trying out my new knee (self-groan) in various yoga and pilates positions.
Not that it is easy. Try doing child’s pose when you can’t bear weight on the front of the knee. Or waving your leg in the air while holding the torso in a sideways position. Or getting up at all!
But it had to be done. Better now than later. Speaking of which, this witch is busy becoming a zombie for a belated Samhain/Hallowmas at UUCMC.
And while I’m there, I hope I don’t encounter alphabet soup on the buffet table. Or even Buffy the Vampire Slayer, although there is a good chance of that. With this crowd. Just saying.
During my recent hospital stay and current recovery from herniated disk surgery, I have practiced some precautions.
It is very hard to have to obey someone who only knows you through an x-ray or peeking into your insides with a tiny camera. I have been attempting to remain in alignment. No, not mental or spiritual alignment, but in a way not to twist my spine in any way shape or form. So I thought how much fun it is to move around, freely.
Put away the records. There will be no twisting until further notice. No Yoga, no tai chi, no practice other than to shove a big pillow between my legs and lie on my side to watch TV. This is no fun. I like to stretch. I like Yoga positions and challenging myself to balance perfectly in tai chi.
Nor can I drive. I can ride in a car, though. I can walk around the block. Once. But I can’t sustain long drives to and from Toms River every time Dad’s breathing pattern changes. Dad! I’m on restricted duty here. I can’t describe how uncomfortable it is at the end of a normal day. Even sitting around all day watching Dark Shadows on Netflix gets tired after a while.