other posts during this time that I am in the Transitional Care Center.
But I rarely can. The posts don't always show up on my facebook app on
my phone and of course I can't get to facebook on my laptop. Still, I
get copies of the comments by email and I appreciate that somebody is
Saturday I had one therapy session. I had it with Laurie, the part-time
therapist who loves to get deeply into my parts. She wondered why I was
still here, given that I am so "high-functioning". I explained the
nobody-at-home thing and she accepted that. I also said I am happy to
get this extra time with these excellent therapists.
This time she took off my brace and carefully monitored and supported me
while I bent my knee, using the skateboard. I have come to hate that
skateboard but it is a great way to improve motion. I am even wondering
if I might be able to find one used so I can use it at home. Small,
maybe two feet long. She showed me how to put pressure on the scar
tissue on either side of the scar, much as Nancy did. I have been doing
that frequently since, when I have access to my knee. Laurie checked the
way my leg moved and promised me that there is nothing in the way of
deeper movement, that it is only a matter of slowly stretching out the
muscles to get there. She could see that the joint moves freely in
there. I don't know how.
The rest of the day went without much to notice, except that I got a
beautiful lily plant, complete with a cute brown bunny pin, from my dear
daughter Elaine, her husband Ed, and the toddler. I wandered around the
place a few times, as usual, and I had pain, as usual. That night I got
to sleep well enough but woke up a few times to ask for more pain meds,
and then woke at about three with a pain in both thighs, top and inner,
that would not quit. Not cramps, not throbbing, simply
impossible-to-ignore pain. I took tylenol because it wasn't time yet for
more percocet, and I asked for hot pads. The pads helped ease the pain a
bit until it was time for more percocet. Then it calmed down and I was
able to get on with Sunday, Easter Sunday.
I am learning that I am not the only one who feels a bit at odds on
these "free" Sundays. No therapy, just food and sleep. Monday mornings,
I hear from therapists, the therapy room is filled early with those who
want to get on with it.
I did notice that there were a lot of visitors Easter Sunday. I had one,
too, in the afternoon. the couches and chairs in the sitting rooms were
filled and the chatter non-stop. Time to visit the grandma!