If you're an active person, like me, there's nothing more torturous than being confined to a wheelchair or walker to get around. I had surgery on a fracture in my ankle after I missed a step and broke my right ankle in two places. Now I have screws keeping my foot together.
The thought of having to hobble on one foot to go anywhere - including to the bathroom - is really not fun, but you learn to cope with that very quickly. I'm making believe I'm playing hopscotch, a game that you younger folk don't even know existed, where you hop on one foot going from chalked box to another going up from 1-10. Designs vary, but the course is usually composed of linear squares with blocks of two lateral squares. You throw a piece of chalk into each box in sequence and hop through all of the other squares to the end, and then you can do the same in reverse. If you step on a chalked line, you're out. It was good exercise then, and it continues to be now. Although my balance isn't as good as it used to be on one foot!
I had a follow-up visit to the surgeon this week and I had to go to two buildings at the hospital. When I made the appointment with my internist, the secretary in her office said that there are always people in the lobby that could be called upon to help me navigate to the other building in the wheelchair.
Not quite.
I had to make my way myself. First, it seemed like all was going well. Then there was a sloping sidewalk that made my wheelchair go into free fall. I barely was able to slow down just touching the brakes, but eventually put my good - not really good - foot down to stop it. Then I had to navigate across a garage and prayed no cars were exiting while I slowly made my way across.
Finally, I was across from the other building and asked a nice woman who was walking with her little girl and mother if they could help me get across the street without getting hit by a car or van.
They were very nice and helped me, leaving me at a ramp that goes up to the other building.
Then, the woman turned to me and said, "Bye!"
I was facing a ramp that had a 30-degree angle to navigate coiling around like an S. I made it using whatever upper body strength I had, and got into the lobby totally drenched in sweat.
Going home was easier since they wheeled me after the office visit to the lobby where I would just have to walk out to a cab.
I hope I lose weight at least while I'm recovering and doing all of this upper body work. The only positive of going through this misery is looking at the view from my beautiful home.
Physical therapy was also what I would generously call ludicrous. I had to move my leg up and down 10 times on each leg; then sideways for 10 each; then hold onto the sink and do the same thing (with the weighted leg being slightly heavier because of the moon boot I'm wearing so I don't put any weight on the injured foot.
They say "patience is a virtue," and I'm learning to be patient. Time seems to be standing still, but I hope I heal well and am back to my old self soon.
The thought of having to hobble on one foot to go anywhere - including to the bathroom - is really not fun, but you learn to cope with that very quickly. I'm making believe I'm playing hopscotch, a game that you younger folk don't even know existed, where you hop on one foot going from chalked box to another going up from 1-10. Designs vary, but the course is usually composed of linear squares with blocks of two lateral squares. You throw a piece of chalk into each box in sequence and hop through all of the other squares to the end, and then you can do the same in reverse. If you step on a chalked line, you're out. It was good exercise then, and it continues to be now. Although my balance isn't as good as it used to be on one foot!
I had a follow-up visit to the surgeon this week and I had to go to two buildings at the hospital. When I made the appointment with my internist, the secretary in her office said that there are always people in the lobby that could be called upon to help me navigate to the other building in the wheelchair.
Not quite.
I had to make my way myself. First, it seemed like all was going well. Then there was a sloping sidewalk that made my wheelchair go into free fall. I barely was able to slow down just touching the brakes, but eventually put my good - not really good - foot down to stop it. Then I had to navigate across a garage and prayed no cars were exiting while I slowly made my way across.
Finally, I was across from the other building and asked a nice woman who was walking with her little girl and mother if they could help me get across the street without getting hit by a car or van.
They were very nice and helped me, leaving me at a ramp that goes up to the other building.
Then, the woman turned to me and said, "Bye!"
I was facing a ramp that had a 30-degree angle to navigate coiling around like an S. I made it using whatever upper body strength I had, and got into the lobby totally drenched in sweat.
Going home was easier since they wheeled me after the office visit to the lobby where I would just have to walk out to a cab.
I hope I lose weight at least while I'm recovering and doing all of this upper body work. The only positive of going through this misery is looking at the view from my beautiful home.
Physical therapy was also what I would generously call ludicrous. I had to move my leg up and down 10 times on each leg; then sideways for 10 each; then hold onto the sink and do the same thing (with the weighted leg being slightly heavier because of the moon boot I'm wearing so I don't put any weight on the injured foot.
They say "patience is a virtue," and I'm learning to be patient. Time seems to be standing still, but I hope I heal well and am back to my old self soon.
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