I am not, however, looking forward to the actual removal of said screws. The doctor is going to give me two numbing injections in the top of my foot. Ouch. A shot in the arm is bearable, a shot in the foot? Not so much. Two shots in the foot? The fact that I'm thinking about it a week in advance shows that I'm a tad scared. Just a tad, though. I've come a long way when it comes to fretting about shots. When I was little I would ask my mom when my next shots were due after we would leave the doctors office. She would tell me it would be a long time, when I was 10 (or 15 or whatever) and I would pull out my hands and start adding up the years from 5 or 6 to 10 or 15 to see how many years I would have to obsess over my next poke.
Today I start physical therapy for my big toe. Yep. My big toe. It isn't bending like it should when I walk. It seems kind of funny that I'm going to physical therapy for a toe. Toes are taken for granted. No one takes much notice of them unless they are buffed and polished and cute in a sandal (or gnarly and in a sandal). I am painfully aware of how great it is to take for granted one of my tiniest members now that it isn't functioning fully.
I've mentioned before that my right foot is a different shape than my left foot now. One side effect is that there is big space between my big toe and the second toe. HUGE space. When I walk in flip flops now the right one goes flying off my foot because there is no pressure put on the the strap that goes between the toes. My flip flop days may be coming to an end.
****
PT went well yesterday. Jennifer did a great job as usual - she's been my physical therapist for about 3 years now. I usually have something flare up about once a year and I'll go in and see her for several weeks. This is the first time it isn't related to something being hyper mobile but rather immobile (as related to the foot surgery). The session was much less painful than I thought it was going to be. Normally when I go in to see her I get some form of deep tissue massage. If you've never had a therapeutic massage I'll give you a little insight.
PT: Where does it hurt?
me: here, here, and here
PT: I'm going to massage those areas.
me: woo-hoo! Massage!
PT: Wa ha ha ha (evil laugh)
me: whimper
PT: (hands poised over body in attack position) tell me when it hurts
me: ouch
PT: ok
me: I said, "ouch"
me: For the love of all things holy, I said, "OUCH"!
me: Why, God, why?!
PT: In a couple of weeks when I do this again it won't hurt
me: meaning that for the next couple of weeks it will feel like you are inducing the worst charlie horse ever?
Of course, she's right. She's always right. She's Jennifer, PT extraordinaire.
Fortunately it looks like this round of PT is shaping up to only be mildly painful. She massaged my foot. Notice, no quotes around the word 'massage'? When she said she was going to rub my foot I instinctively tensed, waiting for the torture to begin but I was pleasantly surprised that it was a pleasant massage. There were no burning sensations, no tears welling up in my eyes, no gritted teeth, I didn't know what to think of it.
Jennifer's massages were not my first introduction to deep tissue massage. My Grandma Martha used to give a mean massage. Well, it's done out of love but she could give Jennifer a run for her money. I must have been 8 or so when she gave me and my cousins back massages.
I remember laying on the brown carpet in her living room and Grandma starting to massage my back. Yowza!!! I felt like a chicken that was being prepared for dinner as a skinless entree. I don't know where Grandma learned to give those massages, maybe life on the farm required therapeutic massage, but when she was done you felt invigorated and relaxed. Maybe the invigoration was from the blood flowing to the surface of the skin and the relaxation was out of relief that it was over.
*****
Gavin is trying to get some diluted juice out of his sippy cup. He has the spout on top so none of the juice is making it out. He's looking a little perturbed - mommy to the rescue. I flipped it around for him. He looks much happier; never mind, he just threw the cup on the floor. He still doesn't quite get the cup concept; I think he thinks if you suck fluid will come out even if the cup is not tilted back. Heck, he can get milk out of me any which way.
Since I have the external hard drive hooked up to the laptop I'll post a photo of the Gavinator.
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