Day one of physical therapy in the water is
now complete. It was kind of eerie. Every activity they had me do reminded me of
the ones I used to have to do back when I had physical therapy on dry land. First they strapped me in. Ankle weights on me. Heavy ankle weights. Ten pounds each, maybe? Then they handed me a pool noodle and told me
to bicycle for five minutes. That’s the
same start I had with regular therapy.
Ride the stationary bike for five minutes. Then I was supposed to let my feet hang in a
sort of traction for five minutes. That
sounded like it would feel pretty good, but the noodle didn’t keep me off the
bottom, so my feet were doing more bouncing than hanging.
Next he decided that I looked “pretty
healthy.” I guess that’s supposed to be
a complement, but in my limited experience, it’s never a good sign. Always means they intend to make things
harder than they originally intended.
Sure enough, instead of walking back and forth across the pool for five
minutes, I had to do lunges. Instead of
sliding sideways for five minutes, I had to do slide squats. At least he didn’t come up with some weird
addition when I had to walk backwards.
Balance is hard enough as it is.
One of the other therapists made a comment
about my bad posture. Now wait a
minute. I just had a twenty minute
session with a physical therapist (who was now in the pool, by the way) who
told me that leaning forward in the classic “old man” stance was to be
expected. It relieved the pressure in my
back caused by the stenosis. Sounded
like permission to lean, right? Well,
like it or not, that comment led to some time with the wet version of
therabands. They are huge rubber bands
that attach to the wall and provide resistance for upper body
strengthening. The ones yesterday were more
like rubber strings, but they provided ample resistance. And my back reacted for the first time during
this segment.
The hardest thing I had to do, along with
the bicycling for five minutes, was hang from
a bar and bring my legs up and tuck them in and push them back out. Really felt that one in my abs, which is
where I thought the exercises were going to concentrate. But right after that he moved me into
stretches, always a crowd favorite. Well,
this crowd, anyway. Long stretches (two
minutes each) of hamstrings and hips and ankles and arms. Tough to continue for two minutes, but they
did feel pretty good.
It was the last thing he tried to do that
brought me as close as I have come to rebelling. He began to put a life jacket-looking thing
around my neck and started to tie it one.
Now ever since my first neck surgery – the one where I had to wear a
hard brace 24 hours a day for six months – I have hated even the thought of
something around my neck. That’s part of
the reason I hate to wear ties. I also
had some less-than-happy experiences with attempts at neck traction before the
neck surgeries. So I was going to give
whatever he had in mind a try, but I didn’t hold out much hope for going beyond
fifteen or twenty seconds. Thankfully,
however, the physical therapist who did my intake interview saw what was going
on and raced over to put a stop to it. “No
cervical traction with his history” was her command. I like this lady more and more. No neck traction. It’s OK to perfect my old man walk. I could get used to this. He came up with an alternate form of traction
that just targeted my lower back. Took two
pool noodles to hold me off the floor, but once that was achieved, it felt
pretty good. Session one complete. Now three times a week for four weeks, plus
water exercise class on the other two days.
I anticipated soreness today. I
was right. Hope I can still hold my own
with the other old folks in class today.
Colossians 3:12 says, “Therefore, as God's chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe
yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience.”
Father, thank you for those who show these
qualities to me every day (read here Chris, primarily). Especially patience. Amen.
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