Thursday, October 1, 2009
After our walk today we spent our time with Annabelle. Her mommy had an appointment so we offered to relieve her of little Missy.
We picked her up and then made our way over to Piccadilly near her house to eat our lunch. This would give mommy a little needed "me" time that all mommies need after running after a toddler/pre-schooler or whatever you call an almost three year old with a bundle of energy.
Months ago I had bought a really pretty lunch box in pink. Perfect for using for Annabelle when we go out to eat together. I had found it one day at Goodwill while I was browsing. It has two tiers. The bottom one we use for small hidden snacks and her extra "plastic ware" and anything else we can slip into it. The top has a deeper section which we keep her silicon cup cake holders. These cup cake holders are pink and yellow and look like sunshines or flowers whichever you see when you look at them. we also have at least four of them with us. We also have other cup cake holders that aren't as fancy, but they are also silicon and we have a choice of blue, pink, yellow and green for those. These she uses as her serving dishes. She loves this little lunch box and the holders almost as much as I do, if that's possible.
It's just a tradition. I try to remember to have them washed and packed back into the car for the next trip out with her. It is supposed to be her responsibility to get it out of them car and back into the car again once we have used it. She's pretty good with a little prompting.
We took them in at Piccadilly and added her food to them. She's a pretty good eater most of the time when we go out. She likes to start with dessert first, which today was muffin spread with butter. I reminded her that Mommy probably wouldn't like for her to eat the muffin before she ate the rest of the food and like a good girl she waited until she had finished.
The end of the meal required a balloon from the girl who has waited on our table for years when we've gone there. We almost always sit in the same area so she's watched Annabelle grow up. This time she asked about Mommy because she was missing. She always attaches the balloon's ribbon at the bottom with several paper napkins. This keeps the balloon from floating away. It's a very neat idea, actually. I'm sure it has kept many a child from crying because they lost their balloon. Annabelle asked for a purple one (her favorite color) or an orange one or pink, or white. Her other favorite colors. She got an orange one.
We dropped it back by her house so that it wouldn't break. The last one she got popped before we got out of the parking lot. Since heat can affect balloons it was best for Granddaddy to put it at the house.
Then it was off to Sam's to spend a little time occupying a little girl. She didn't ride in the buggy. She was going to walk beside it. I said she was going to walk beside it. I left her and Granddaddy for one second and come back to find her hanging from the front of the buggy. A definite no, no with her Mommy. I told Granddaddy he would have to do the 'splaining to Mommy about that one.
She got off the buggy and carried me around the store to show me some of her favorite things she knew she would love to have. Which meant pretty much every toy in the store. Now why does she think I'm the sucker in this two-pony show?
We finally got her to sit in the buggy, not on her knees like she wanted, bottom down onto the big part of the buggy. She had already had samples throughout the store. She's so much her Granddaddy's grandchild! While we were waiting for Granddaddy to get a sample of coffee (which he doesn't drink) and let it have time to cool down, she started telling me that Granddaddy wouldn't let her have something. Something was what I didn't understand so she and I made our way back to the back of the store where she told me it was "A looonng way back there". It was and she was wanting some yogurt that Granddaddy had ignored getting her, probably because he also didn't know what she had said.
She had eaten a sample earlier and then it had gotten spilled so she wanted some more. We got it. She ate it. She was happy again for a little while.
Then, before we could go home we had to go by the books. She wanted to read some books before we left. She found one that looked interesting. We read it. Then she saw another set that had fifteen tiny little books in it about helpers in the community. We couldn't go home until we had read all fifteen of them. She knew which ones we had and had not read. She listened to me read every page. She does love those books. I just hope that will continue through out her life.
Then it was back to her house to make sure Shadow (the cat) hadn't burst her balloon while we were gone and to wait for Mommy to come home so she could show her the balloon she had gotten at Piccadilly.
Meanwhile, while I was doing something else I kept asking her where she was, what she was doing, etc. I knew she was in her bedroom doing something because I could see the little shadows moving around occasionally. Just as I was going to check on her she wanted me to come back there and join her. She was probably tired of me asking what she was doing.
I did join her. She had her Bristle blocks and was playing with them. On the floor she had lined up a bunch of the block pieces going down and to the side. She had the directions book for making things in her hand. She had found all the blocks that went with the picture facing the parts needed and wanted my help finding the other pieces. Some had been put in other places, apparently, and she didn't see them. We were searching for them when Mommy came home.
Mommy didn't believe that Annabelle had gotten the pieces all lined up. She did almost every piece if not every piece done by herself, because I had just gone in a very few minutes earlier.
She is amazing at how fast she can put pretty difficult puzzles together with no problem. I'm certainly no help to her.
I give credit to her Daddy for the time he spends with her working on building with the Bristle blocks. I guess he can't relate too much to playing with dollies and having tea parties, so he teaches her what he knows and that is the building part. Mommy can teach her the girly girl things. And she is a good little student. She apparently watches and plays well with her Daddy. I give him lots of credit for the job he does with her. She's well rounded in her play. That's a very good thing. Good job, Daddy.
Mommy felt a hunger for the Varsity. Annabelle had mentioned wanting to go there again last week when we were together. She had found the picture of her with the onion rings held over her eyes and that made her want to go there again.
While she and I were waiting for Granddaddy and Mommy to bring our meal to us she was occupying her little self with the straws. They were covered with paper so I saw no reason for her not to play with a few of them while we waited. After I had talked her into putting a few back into the cup, she decided she would hold out a few. "Dez are for me. Dare x'tras", says she.
She would later say the same thing to her mother who says, "Where do these things come from?" We don't know where that word came from, but obviously it was a part of Annabelle's vocabulary she's kept hidden.
Annabelle doesn't like eating meats much so Mommy had suggested maybe I could share my hotdog with her. Of course Annabelle wanted it cut into an octopus, actually a modified octopus because he only had four arms and not eight. She played with it for a while before eating any of it, so I suggested she might let me put some ketchup into the plate and she could dance her octopus into the ketchup. That sounded like a good idea to me and her both until the octopus had ketchup stuck on its feet. Apparently she doesn't like ketchup. Then the drama of all dramas began. She was not at all happy with having ketchup on her octopus' arms and she started wailing about it. Her Mommy suggested she could wipe it off with a napkin. I made the comment about her getting on its arms and she continued the wailing and blaming me for it.
"You told me to, Grandmomma!" Well, yeah, but that was before I knew you didn't like ketchup on your hotdog octopus. How was I to know? She likes dippy anything. I just figured. Anyway, it was taken care of with a little napkin like Mommy had suggested.
Then on toward the end of the meal she needed something to occupy her mind a little more, or as she once told me, "We need to find something to do." or something like that. She was sitting next to the window and I was pretty sure that by now she had done a good job of cleaning the ledge with her hands and arms and face. She is so her mother's child. Don't tell her not to do something...she will bust a gut to make sure she does it. It's just a deliberate thing with her. I try not to say 'don't' to her because I know she will. So I had pretty much ignored her wallowing all over the ledge and the window, etc.
Next thing any of us knew (I promise you she's very fast when she moves, while we're all still in shock, I guess) she had taken the lid off her cup, dipped her napkin into the water and proceeded to quickly wash the window! No, really, we do all watch her, but at that point it was pretty much just that..."watch her". She quick and she knows if she doesn't do it fast she'll never get away with it.
I have to say it was really funny, though, and I regretted not having the camera with it. It was in the car but did me no good there. At that point there was no need to tell her not to do it, she had already done it. She entertained herself for quite a while, dipping, washing, scrubbing, cleaning that window until finally I offered her a dry napkin to dry it off.
Outside the restaurant a family was leaving and the woman saw what she was doing. She thought it was equally funny (after all, it wasn't her kid, I suppose) and she gave her a thumbs up, while little Missy just kept washing the window.
Finally we stopped her just before we were invited to leave the restaurant. The Varsity had no reason to complain...the window was much cleaner after she finished it than it was when she started. Isn't there a little saying about leaving the place a little better than you found it? She did.
Granddaddy has a hard time letting her do the things we sometimes overlook. He never stayed home with two kids all day and all night. He didn't understand the importance of deciding what would make you go completely crazy and letting them have a little fun discovering things around them. Besides better for it to happen there in the restaurant where it could be more easily cleaned up than being on my hard-wood floors while she was cleaning the sliding door. What would you have chosen?
And why would I want to stop her? She's my amusement many days of my life. And I love her sooo much.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Friday, September 11, 2009
Thank you...
Thank you many times over, former President George W. Bush, for the professionalism you displayed on this day eight years ago. You calmed a nation that had been stunned beyond belief. A nation that had been plunged into the depths of something we had never faced as a country before.
We had grown complacent in how we lived daily. It was mostly about me, me, me, where ever and whatever we faced. Little did we know our world would be completely turned upside down in just a few minutes times. We suffered our own little shocks over what happened but there would be many thousands of people whose lives would be forever transformed into something they never saw coming on that beautiful morning in New York City, Washington, D.C. and Sharksville, PA.
They still deal with the horrible memories of that day. Much more than we do. I fear we have allowed ourselves as individuals, and as a country to slip back into the mode that our little world won't be turned over again. But I also fear, we are so mistaken.
On this day in 2001 all of us finally realized just how much we needed a leader. Someone who could lead us, calm us, stick with us showing leadership this country has never seen before. Everyone, Democrats, Republicans, Independants and those who never cared one way or the other felt the strength of President George W. Bush.
The years would take their toll on this president because he was forced and determined never to allow anything like this to happen again, not on his watch. We would see his hair turn grayer and lines form on his before innocent face as he made decisions everyday, sometimes having to fight with his opposition party as he tried hard to protect you and me. And yes, he even signed up again after the first four years to give it a try for another four.
And, in my opinion, he never blinked until he turned over the presidency in January of this year. He didn't allow anything so horrendous to happen the eight years he was in office.
He encouraged us to continue on living our lives as we had the day before. He also encouraged us to contribute to the future of our businesses by continuing to buy. He encouraged us to continue in service by helping those who needed our help in whatever way we could. He was an optimistic leader. He was exactly where he should have been at that particular time in our lives.
I remember hearing him take the oath of office in January 2001 when he swore to defend this country from the enemy, both foreign and domestic. There's a key word here...domestic. It made me proud to hear him say that. He would defend me, my family, my country, all those I loved, from the enemy both foreign and domestic. Domestic brought it home to my doorsteps. Little did he know he would be protecting us here on the domestic front for the next eight years.
I've since listened carefully to the oath of office others have taken. I heard the vice president promise this and I've heard new senators, members of congress, etc. anyone who has been connected to the government take that same oath. I missed hearing that word...domestic...when our last president took the oath of office. As I said, I listened very carefully, and it wasn't there. We weren't privy to the second oath he took in private because of a mix-up during the first one. I only pray that this was not an intentional omission and that he will indeed continue to keep all of us safe here in our homeland.
I tend to be a 'word' person. I try to listen carefully to whatever is said, or not said, and I interpret things the way they were said. I hope this was just a slip-up on my part, but I'm not so sure.
As we continue this day where we are remembering those who lost their lives because of people who set out to deliberately destroy and kill our people and our country, may we never forget the leader of this country the day it happened. He undertook an enormous responsibility to lead us. I'm proud of the physical and especially emotional toll he endured for us. I hope I never forget. I hope my grandchildren will all remember and we will continue to tell them as we discuss this horrible event, just how lucky we were to have been brought safely through this disaster.
To those who lost a loved one on September 11, 2001, God bless you as you continue to deal with your loss, and never give up hope. This country has always been a strong country, established by people with an eye toward freedom. May our enemy from outside or any who may be wishing us ill within our country never be successful in destroying what our forefathers envisioned and our men and women have fought and are fighting and dying to protect. God bless America and God bless each of us.
We had grown complacent in how we lived daily. It was mostly about me, me, me, where ever and whatever we faced. Little did we know our world would be completely turned upside down in just a few minutes times. We suffered our own little shocks over what happened but there would be many thousands of people whose lives would be forever transformed into something they never saw coming on that beautiful morning in New York City, Washington, D.C. and Sharksville, PA.
They still deal with the horrible memories of that day. Much more than we do. I fear we have allowed ourselves as individuals, and as a country to slip back into the mode that our little world won't be turned over again. But I also fear, we are so mistaken.
On this day in 2001 all of us finally realized just how much we needed a leader. Someone who could lead us, calm us, stick with us showing leadership this country has never seen before. Everyone, Democrats, Republicans, Independants and those who never cared one way or the other felt the strength of President George W. Bush.
The years would take their toll on this president because he was forced and determined never to allow anything like this to happen again, not on his watch. We would see his hair turn grayer and lines form on his before innocent face as he made decisions everyday, sometimes having to fight with his opposition party as he tried hard to protect you and me. And yes, he even signed up again after the first four years to give it a try for another four.
And, in my opinion, he never blinked until he turned over the presidency in January of this year. He didn't allow anything so horrendous to happen the eight years he was in office.
He encouraged us to continue on living our lives as we had the day before. He also encouraged us to contribute to the future of our businesses by continuing to buy. He encouraged us to continue in service by helping those who needed our help in whatever way we could. He was an optimistic leader. He was exactly where he should have been at that particular time in our lives.
I remember hearing him take the oath of office in January 2001 when he swore to defend this country from the enemy, both foreign and domestic. There's a key word here...domestic. It made me proud to hear him say that. He would defend me, my family, my country, all those I loved, from the enemy both foreign and domestic. Domestic brought it home to my doorsteps. Little did he know he would be protecting us here on the domestic front for the next eight years.
I've since listened carefully to the oath of office others have taken. I heard the vice president promise this and I've heard new senators, members of congress, etc. anyone who has been connected to the government take that same oath. I missed hearing that word...domestic...when our last president took the oath of office. As I said, I listened very carefully, and it wasn't there. We weren't privy to the second oath he took in private because of a mix-up during the first one. I only pray that this was not an intentional omission and that he will indeed continue to keep all of us safe here in our homeland.
I tend to be a 'word' person. I try to listen carefully to whatever is said, or not said, and I interpret things the way they were said. I hope this was just a slip-up on my part, but I'm not so sure.
As we continue this day where we are remembering those who lost their lives because of people who set out to deliberately destroy and kill our people and our country, may we never forget the leader of this country the day it happened. He undertook an enormous responsibility to lead us. I'm proud of the physical and especially emotional toll he endured for us. I hope I never forget. I hope my grandchildren will all remember and we will continue to tell them as we discuss this horrible event, just how lucky we were to have been brought safely through this disaster.
To those who lost a loved one on September 11, 2001, God bless you as you continue to deal with your loss, and never give up hope. This country has always been a strong country, established by people with an eye toward freedom. May our enemy from outside or any who may be wishing us ill within our country never be successful in destroying what our forefathers envisioned and our men and women have fought and are fighting and dying to protect. God bless America and God bless each of us.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Another session finished!
Today was another day of therapy. Granddaddy and I have both been feeling puny for the last few days, but since I felt better I went ahead with my therapy even though I would have preferred to stay home. I am at the point where as my kids like to say, "I'm so over this!"
I did do some new things including lying on the bed on my tummy with my shoulder over the edge and a 3 lb. weight attached to my arm for swinging! He said I was ready for a 20 pound one and I complained about him adding the three pound one to my regimen.
He also increased the number of times I held those stupid three lb. weights up into a V shape and back almost to my side. He wasn't fooling me. The last time he almost killed me by having me do three sets of 12. I just didn't think I would make them it through all those lifts then and I knew I was doomed today, but somehow I did as he had increased them to three sets of 15 instead of the twelve.
He also did an evaluation and had me put both arms behind me at different times so he could measure how close I was on each side to the other. It was difficult but I think I pretty much got the left shoulder side up nearly as far as the good arm. I think he was more amazed at the strength I had in my good arm than in the other arm. He doesn't know I've had my experience wresting with two children in my lifetime. It makes a difference in your strength. I may be old, but I haven't gotten all that weak in these last years.
He also checked my strength in both arms pushing against and pulled toward him. Lately he has gotten to where he checks that strength check after I've done something pretty steneous.
Can't remember what it was, but it had left me pretty winded, so I didn't do quite as well as if he had let me rest.
I had it all alone this morning. I was his first appointment and no one came in for treatment while I was there. He said it was pretty light today but the rest of the week would be very busy.
Granddaddy stayed in the car and was going to take a stroll around the area for his exercise he misses the days I have therapy, but it sprinkled a little and he was afraid he would melt so he jumped back into the car and, I'm sure took his nap there today. He was coughing so much I was afraid they would think he gave them something just hearing him cough, so I suggested he stay outside today. I doubt he missed much since I was the only one there.
The soreness had not gotten better since Thursday session of stretching so he didn't do any more today, thank goodness. I don't know what the next one will be. I know I sure do dread that stretching even though I know I have to have it to make it better and I do want my usage back to normal.
He is planning three more weeks of sessions and feels I should be back to normal for the most part by the time I go back to the doctor. I certainly hope so. I'm ready for this to end. I've got other things to do.
I did do some new things including lying on the bed on my tummy with my shoulder over the edge and a 3 lb. weight attached to my arm for swinging! He said I was ready for a 20 pound one and I complained about him adding the three pound one to my regimen.
He also increased the number of times I held those stupid three lb. weights up into a V shape and back almost to my side. He wasn't fooling me. The last time he almost killed me by having me do three sets of 12. I just didn't think I would make them it through all those lifts then and I knew I was doomed today, but somehow I did as he had increased them to three sets of 15 instead of the twelve.
He also did an evaluation and had me put both arms behind me at different times so he could measure how close I was on each side to the other. It was difficult but I think I pretty much got the left shoulder side up nearly as far as the good arm. I think he was more amazed at the strength I had in my good arm than in the other arm. He doesn't know I've had my experience wresting with two children in my lifetime. It makes a difference in your strength. I may be old, but I haven't gotten all that weak in these last years.
He also checked my strength in both arms pushing against and pulled toward him. Lately he has gotten to where he checks that strength check after I've done something pretty steneous.
Can't remember what it was, but it had left me pretty winded, so I didn't do quite as well as if he had let me rest.
I had it all alone this morning. I was his first appointment and no one came in for treatment while I was there. He said it was pretty light today but the rest of the week would be very busy.
Granddaddy stayed in the car and was going to take a stroll around the area for his exercise he misses the days I have therapy, but it sprinkled a little and he was afraid he would melt so he jumped back into the car and, I'm sure took his nap there today. He was coughing so much I was afraid they would think he gave them something just hearing him cough, so I suggested he stay outside today. I doubt he missed much since I was the only one there.
The soreness had not gotten better since Thursday session of stretching so he didn't do any more today, thank goodness. I don't know what the next one will be. I know I sure do dread that stretching even though I know I have to have it to make it better and I do want my usage back to normal.
He is planning three more weeks of sessions and feels I should be back to normal for the most part by the time I go back to the doctor. I certainly hope so. I'm ready for this to end. I've got other things to do.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Just a few thoughts
Well, I have just finished 9 weeks and two long days since I fell and broke my shoulder and two or three other bones. I am still in rehab, not for alcohol or drug addiction, though had I had access to them, and a drinker, I guess I could have been in rehab for all I've been through.
I am down to two days instead of three weekly trips. This was really my back way of cutting these trips down from three original ones over the last few weeks. I've been on this schedule for maybe two weeks. I hope it isn't a mistake and I don't pay for it down the road a ways, but three days a week of my life, please!
These sessions leave me completely wiped out. I'm not worth anything the rest of the day and the next after going. I'm sure it is not that bad a thing, but it exhausts me. I also know that the day after I will be so sore from the treatments. I guess that's a sign it really is good for me.
This is a recap of just a few of the things I did today and my thoughts:
Today was a very aggressive day. I had a couple of days like that a couple of weeks ago when another employee, a female, did my therapy rather than my usual young man. You never want to meet this girl on the street and try to attack her. She gets you into an arm hold you won't get out of and she inflicts major, major pain! But, I must say I was much better after those two sessions with her. She just may have been moving forward at a faster speed than he had planned, or I, for that matter.
And I guess I should take this comment from her as a compliment: "You're tough, you know it? You laid here with all this and you never said a peep." She obviously hadn't noticed I had lost consciousness from all the pain, so to keep from embarassing her, I replied, "Well, don't let me deceive you. It was very, very painful!"
I was at the point where I still could not reach behind my back. Now that's a pretty important thing to be able to do. You might find a time when your back itches and your husband is a lousy back scratcher...ehhmmmm! Or, it's also nice to be able bathe the back part of your back or even the opposite side of your body. It comes in handy to have that other hand available. Not to mention, washing and rolling your hair involves a lot of both arm usage.
Anyway, I was getting concerned that I was at the end of my sessions (or so I so naively thought) and I couldn't comfortably reach my backside using that injured arm. Well, little did I know that just mentioning my concerns would inflict such damage to an already damaged body part. So, we have been on a very aggressive, painful road for the last couple of weeks.
Today was no different. First it was stand with that hand behind your back and move it out for 8 times and repeat it for three sets. I've mentioned this before, but just to put the emphasis on it: Never, in my wildest dreams would I ever have thought that a broken bone could feel like such dead weight. I can only imagine it must be the way someone who has suffered a stroke must feel when trying to force themselves to move a given body part. It was so heavy I couldn't get it far from my back a few weeks ago. Today was a little better because I've been practicing.
That all came to a halt when he told me he wanted me to lie down on the bed, face down, arm behind my back and raise that arm just as I had done with great difficulty when I was standing. It was pure misery. Dead weight. The brain tells you what you want it to do, but the arm won't move. He helped me guide it until I finally could do a few slight lifts for, you got it, 3 sets of eight!
Then he says, "You're going to love this one. I want you to stay on your stomach and I'm going to stretch your arm behind your back." Oh joy! I could hardly wait. He was very thoughtful. He had left a pillow there in case the pain was so intense I could just scream into it...or smother myself with it!
I know he was distracted by something else because I know he held my arm stretched out for way longer than the 30 second hold he keeps telling me to hold on for.
I really didn't think he would ever stop. It really hurt bad. I told him I didn't think we would get my arm back down again, once he had stopped. He assured me we would. That's another thing. Once it goes up, it can be very difficult to bring it back down. We did, together, get it back down. It will get easier; it's got to.
I hate doing the bands most of all. First of all don't talk to me while I'm trying to count off my sets. Second, I don't like change. Once I've learned something, don't change the direction I'm supposed to go. Don't change my game plan. And that's what he decided to do, to add a little interest and strength training, I suppose. I just can't seem to remember those new two steps he's added. I'm sure he thinks I'm showing signs of Alzheimers, and very well this would be causing it. He says I have to memorize it. It's math. I automatically shut out anything that's math. Where's the math you ask? Remembering which set of 8's or 10's or even 12's I'm on, maybe? Just leave me alone and let's move on to something I like better.
And earlier, he piped up with, "Let's do 45 each way and each side on that ball, and really push into it this time." This means 45 times up and down, 45 times side to side, 45 times circle right, 45 times circle left, then turn to my side and repeat everything all over again. Your arm feels like it wants to break off by the time you're finished.
The ball has an ugly face with a tongue sticking out. I tell him, "This is your face you know!" He thinks I'm kidding. No, no, no, I'm very serious. And he also hands me a ball filled with sand that must weigh 50 lbs. and tells me to push that up the wall 15 times.
As part of my regimen I have to hold three pound weights in each hand and lift them a little above shoulder height and bring them back down almost straight down, but stop and do it again. Twelve times, 3 sets. Today must have been an off-day because I was staggering over the floor by the time I reached #12, third set. Actually, I think he increased them from 10 times, 3 sets. Six times up and down really makes a difference.
I had a conversation with another woman who was in there the first time I was there this week. I hate a show off. There she was making those bands look so easy. I told her when I would be back, and I contracted with her to come at the same time and do those bands for me since she knows them so well.
She said nobody had told her how awful this physical therapy would be. She wasn't expecting to have to go so long and she had to make arrangements for having her kids picked up and all the sheer pain you have to go through once you became involved.
But she did agree to show up today and do my sessions with those dumb bands. Well, she either forgot her committment or she's a drop out, or they killed her after I left, because she was nowhere to be found when it came time for me to deal with those things. I had to suffer through another session of those dreaded things.
Here is a little saying they have in the physical therapists office. I pulled it up from the internet and there wasn't anyone to credit for it, but it is very appropriate and funny. You have to keep a sense of humor or you'll never make it through life. Even if it is a strange sense of humor.
Ten 'Nevers' to do in Physical Therapy
1. Never say you can't because you will do it anyway.
2. Never say "It's easy" because we'll make it hard.
3. Never say "I want to go home" because you'll just stay longer.
4. Never lose count because you will start at 1 again.
5. Never complain because we'll never listen.
6. Never argue because you'll never win.
7. Never scream or cry bcause it only encourages us.
8. Never look like you're enjoying it because we'll put a stop to it.
9. Never hold your breath because if you pass out and die, we'll have to do paperwork.
10.Never lie or cheat because we know the truth and you'll live to regret it.
Truer words were never spoken. I can relate to every one of those "Nevers".
I've learned you just do a lot of praying the days you have therapy, and on the days you don't have therapy you're just thankful for the reprieve. It's been quite an humbling experience to say the least.
But, lest you think I'm ungrateful, I'm not. It's been a long row to hoe, but this therapy also has been the biggest blessing. For all those 'evil' bone breaking physical therapist, and mine in particular, you are a Godsend to me and others who've needed you. Thank you for all your hard work and especially your patience. Especially with a woman who can't remember which way she's supposed to turn, whether this exercise she's supposed to keep the arm straight or bend the elbow and whether's she's counted as high as she was told after doing a set. I couldn't do it without you...though I'm really getting ready to try it alone, and soon. Please?
I am down to two days instead of three weekly trips. This was really my back way of cutting these trips down from three original ones over the last few weeks. I've been on this schedule for maybe two weeks. I hope it isn't a mistake and I don't pay for it down the road a ways, but three days a week of my life, please!
These sessions leave me completely wiped out. I'm not worth anything the rest of the day and the next after going. I'm sure it is not that bad a thing, but it exhausts me. I also know that the day after I will be so sore from the treatments. I guess that's a sign it really is good for me.
This is a recap of just a few of the things I did today and my thoughts:
Today was a very aggressive day. I had a couple of days like that a couple of weeks ago when another employee, a female, did my therapy rather than my usual young man. You never want to meet this girl on the street and try to attack her. She gets you into an arm hold you won't get out of and she inflicts major, major pain! But, I must say I was much better after those two sessions with her. She just may have been moving forward at a faster speed than he had planned, or I, for that matter.
And I guess I should take this comment from her as a compliment: "You're tough, you know it? You laid here with all this and you never said a peep." She obviously hadn't noticed I had lost consciousness from all the pain, so to keep from embarassing her, I replied, "Well, don't let me deceive you. It was very, very painful!"
I was at the point where I still could not reach behind my back. Now that's a pretty important thing to be able to do. You might find a time when your back itches and your husband is a lousy back scratcher...ehhmmmm! Or, it's also nice to be able bathe the back part of your back or even the opposite side of your body. It comes in handy to have that other hand available. Not to mention, washing and rolling your hair involves a lot of both arm usage.
Anyway, I was getting concerned that I was at the end of my sessions (or so I so naively thought) and I couldn't comfortably reach my backside using that injured arm. Well, little did I know that just mentioning my concerns would inflict such damage to an already damaged body part. So, we have been on a very aggressive, painful road for the last couple of weeks.
Today was no different. First it was stand with that hand behind your back and move it out for 8 times and repeat it for three sets. I've mentioned this before, but just to put the emphasis on it: Never, in my wildest dreams would I ever have thought that a broken bone could feel like such dead weight. I can only imagine it must be the way someone who has suffered a stroke must feel when trying to force themselves to move a given body part. It was so heavy I couldn't get it far from my back a few weeks ago. Today was a little better because I've been practicing.
That all came to a halt when he told me he wanted me to lie down on the bed, face down, arm behind my back and raise that arm just as I had done with great difficulty when I was standing. It was pure misery. Dead weight. The brain tells you what you want it to do, but the arm won't move. He helped me guide it until I finally could do a few slight lifts for, you got it, 3 sets of eight!
Then he says, "You're going to love this one. I want you to stay on your stomach and I'm going to stretch your arm behind your back." Oh joy! I could hardly wait. He was very thoughtful. He had left a pillow there in case the pain was so intense I could just scream into it...or smother myself with it!
I know he was distracted by something else because I know he held my arm stretched out for way longer than the 30 second hold he keeps telling me to hold on for.
I really didn't think he would ever stop. It really hurt bad. I told him I didn't think we would get my arm back down again, once he had stopped. He assured me we would. That's another thing. Once it goes up, it can be very difficult to bring it back down. We did, together, get it back down. It will get easier; it's got to.
I hate doing the bands most of all. First of all don't talk to me while I'm trying to count off my sets. Second, I don't like change. Once I've learned something, don't change the direction I'm supposed to go. Don't change my game plan. And that's what he decided to do, to add a little interest and strength training, I suppose. I just can't seem to remember those new two steps he's added. I'm sure he thinks I'm showing signs of Alzheimers, and very well this would be causing it. He says I have to memorize it. It's math. I automatically shut out anything that's math. Where's the math you ask? Remembering which set of 8's or 10's or even 12's I'm on, maybe? Just leave me alone and let's move on to something I like better.
And earlier, he piped up with, "Let's do 45 each way and each side on that ball, and really push into it this time." This means 45 times up and down, 45 times side to side, 45 times circle right, 45 times circle left, then turn to my side and repeat everything all over again. Your arm feels like it wants to break off by the time you're finished.
The ball has an ugly face with a tongue sticking out. I tell him, "This is your face you know!" He thinks I'm kidding. No, no, no, I'm very serious. And he also hands me a ball filled with sand that must weigh 50 lbs. and tells me to push that up the wall 15 times.
As part of my regimen I have to hold three pound weights in each hand and lift them a little above shoulder height and bring them back down almost straight down, but stop and do it again. Twelve times, 3 sets. Today must have been an off-day because I was staggering over the floor by the time I reached #12, third set. Actually, I think he increased them from 10 times, 3 sets. Six times up and down really makes a difference.
I had a conversation with another woman who was in there the first time I was there this week. I hate a show off. There she was making those bands look so easy. I told her when I would be back, and I contracted with her to come at the same time and do those bands for me since she knows them so well.
She said nobody had told her how awful this physical therapy would be. She wasn't expecting to have to go so long and she had to make arrangements for having her kids picked up and all the sheer pain you have to go through once you became involved.
But she did agree to show up today and do my sessions with those dumb bands. Well, she either forgot her committment or she's a drop out, or they killed her after I left, because she was nowhere to be found when it came time for me to deal with those things. I had to suffer through another session of those dreaded things.
Here is a little saying they have in the physical therapists office. I pulled it up from the internet and there wasn't anyone to credit for it, but it is very appropriate and funny. You have to keep a sense of humor or you'll never make it through life. Even if it is a strange sense of humor.
Ten 'Nevers' to do in Physical Therapy
1. Never say you can't because you will do it anyway.
2. Never say "It's easy" because we'll make it hard.
3. Never say "I want to go home" because you'll just stay longer.
4. Never lose count because you will start at 1 again.
5. Never complain because we'll never listen.
6. Never argue because you'll never win.
7. Never scream or cry bcause it only encourages us.
8. Never look like you're enjoying it because we'll put a stop to it.
9. Never hold your breath because if you pass out and die, we'll have to do paperwork.
10.Never lie or cheat because we know the truth and you'll live to regret it.
Truer words were never spoken. I can relate to every one of those "Nevers".
I've learned you just do a lot of praying the days you have therapy, and on the days you don't have therapy you're just thankful for the reprieve. It's been quite an humbling experience to say the least.
But, lest you think I'm ungrateful, I'm not. It's been a long row to hoe, but this therapy also has been the biggest blessing. For all those 'evil' bone breaking physical therapist, and mine in particular, you are a Godsend to me and others who've needed you. Thank you for all your hard work and especially your patience. Especially with a woman who can't remember which way she's supposed to turn, whether this exercise she's supposed to keep the arm straight or bend the elbow and whether's she's counted as high as she was told after doing a set. I couldn't do it without you...though I'm really getting ready to try it alone, and soon. Please?
Not so good...
Annabelle spent Saturday night with us while Mommy and Daddy went out on a 'date night'. They don't get a chance to do much without their little tagalong, but this was planned months in advance when her Mommy had bought tickets for Annabelle's Daddy's father's day surprise for an up-coming event.
During the night I awoke to the sounds coming from the baby monitor at my head. "I need you! I need you!" Those were words I didn't wait to react to. I flew into her room to check on her. She staggered to get up onto her feet and was ready to get out of bed. I picked her up and instantly knew she wasn't feeling well. She was so hot, literally from her head to her little feet. It's not unusual for her to feel hotter than I expect her to, so since she was at this point, wide awake and laughing at different things that had happened, I asked her if she wanted me to sleep in the big bed with her. Of course, she agreed.
It's hard not to carry on a conversation with an almost three year old when you're moving them from one place to the other, so I broke the cardinal rule set by her Mommy, and found myself quite engaged in conversation somewhere between 12:30 and 1:00. I thought we should go back to sleep, but she was wide awake and chattered away for at least an hour. But at least she seemed to be feeling better and not quite so hot.
When I remembered Mommy's rule and fell silent, she finally went back to sleep. By then I was wide awake, feeling of her to make sure she wasn't getting too, too hot again, listening to those sweet little snores she does and has since birth, and even snickered at times when I heard her at one point say to someone unknown to me, "Tank Coo!" as she accepted something from someone in her sleep. She talked in her sleep about other things too, but I don't remember exactly what. That was the funny thing she had said.
Of course, while she slept, I tossed and turned, finally getting up to play on the computer and back again. The last time I saw the clock it was 6:17. Sometime after that I was awakened by "I want Mommy!" I explained to her she would see Mommy later and asked if I could do something for her. Finally she said, "Can we get up now?" This was approximately 7:05! And we did get up. She played for a while and then we went to eat at Granddaddy's favorite place for breakfast...Hardees. She ate a fairly good breakfast and laughed and acted almost normal again.
Since she had so little sleep during the night, Mommy and I decided she needed a nap, so I put her down after the usual stories and songs and a piece of peppermint candy as well as three M & M's to take care of her trips to the potty where she had earned them.
She slept for almost an hour and woke up crying. I could tell she sounded like she was trying to get her breath as in coughing, etc. so I went in and got her up. We didn't make it to the bathroom before she threw up on the floor. I put her down and she flew across the hall to the bathroom. She lifted the toilet seat and leaned her little head over and threw up. It looked like blood. I began to worry because she had been so hot last night. I washed her little face with a wash cloth and told her to hold on, I was calling Mommy. Mommy had planned to work at the office because she and Daddy both have been slammed with work. Mommy immediately said she was on her with. I checked Annabelle's temperature with a thermometer this time and it was 101.8, orally. I called Mommy and told her to bring some Tylenol and since she had been so hot last night and still now, she might need to give her some.
While I was trying to take care of this business on the side (Granddaddy had gone to meet her Daddy at Home Depot to pick up a steel door to put on my laundry room) she was still trying to finish her throwing up episode at the toilet. After standing for a few minutes with her head hung over the toilet, she reaches over for her little step stool she uses to climb up onto the potty. Instead of climbing up onto the potty, she pulled it over and sat down on it in front of the potty. I certainly never suggested it, but she had felt so rotten, and since I was on the phone with Mommy, she figured out what to do all by herself. She was sick. Too sick to stand. Solved problem by
herself. There are somethings that you can see the humor in even when one you love is very sick, if you just look.Even though it was a sad, sad thing it was so cute she had figured out what to do.
As she and I waited for Mommy, I told her that I would take care of her until Mommy got over here for her. She listened as I told her I would care for her and then she said, "Me and Mommy were both sick the last time!" To which I reminded her, Yes, and I had taken care of both of them then. (More her than Mommy. Mommy had to fend for herself that time since Annabelle was my top priority.) This had been many, many months ago since they had been at our house and the two of them were sick at the same time. Her memory is something else.
Mommy came and took Annabelle's temperature the way she takes it and it was 101.9. This was after I had been washing her face and body off with a wet cloth to try to help break the fever. Mommy gave her some Tylenol and she was playing around feeling a little better, but not really up to her old self. She was so very, very pale. Mommy talked her into the two of them going on home.
Work Deadlines or no Work Deadlines, sometimes Mommies and only Mommies are what they need to recover.
Hope you feel better soon, Sweetie. I love you, All the way to the Moon and back!
During the night I awoke to the sounds coming from the baby monitor at my head. "I need you! I need you!" Those were words I didn't wait to react to. I flew into her room to check on her. She staggered to get up onto her feet and was ready to get out of bed. I picked her up and instantly knew she wasn't feeling well. She was so hot, literally from her head to her little feet. It's not unusual for her to feel hotter than I expect her to, so since she was at this point, wide awake and laughing at different things that had happened, I asked her if she wanted me to sleep in the big bed with her. Of course, she agreed.
It's hard not to carry on a conversation with an almost three year old when you're moving them from one place to the other, so I broke the cardinal rule set by her Mommy, and found myself quite engaged in conversation somewhere between 12:30 and 1:00. I thought we should go back to sleep, but she was wide awake and chattered away for at least an hour. But at least she seemed to be feeling better and not quite so hot.
When I remembered Mommy's rule and fell silent, she finally went back to sleep. By then I was wide awake, feeling of her to make sure she wasn't getting too, too hot again, listening to those sweet little snores she does and has since birth, and even snickered at times when I heard her at one point say to someone unknown to me, "Tank Coo!" as she accepted something from someone in her sleep. She talked in her sleep about other things too, but I don't remember exactly what. That was the funny thing she had said.
Of course, while she slept, I tossed and turned, finally getting up to play on the computer and back again. The last time I saw the clock it was 6:17. Sometime after that I was awakened by "I want Mommy!" I explained to her she would see Mommy later and asked if I could do something for her. Finally she said, "Can we get up now?" This was approximately 7:05! And we did get up. She played for a while and then we went to eat at Granddaddy's favorite place for breakfast...Hardees. She ate a fairly good breakfast and laughed and acted almost normal again.
Since she had so little sleep during the night, Mommy and I decided she needed a nap, so I put her down after the usual stories and songs and a piece of peppermint candy as well as three M & M's to take care of her trips to the potty where she had earned them.
She slept for almost an hour and woke up crying. I could tell she sounded like she was trying to get her breath as in coughing, etc. so I went in and got her up. We didn't make it to the bathroom before she threw up on the floor. I put her down and she flew across the hall to the bathroom. She lifted the toilet seat and leaned her little head over and threw up. It looked like blood. I began to worry because she had been so hot last night. I washed her little face with a wash cloth and told her to hold on, I was calling Mommy. Mommy had planned to work at the office because she and Daddy both have been slammed with work. Mommy immediately said she was on her with. I checked Annabelle's temperature with a thermometer this time and it was 101.8, orally. I called Mommy and told her to bring some Tylenol and since she had been so hot last night and still now, she might need to give her some.
While I was trying to take care of this business on the side (Granddaddy had gone to meet her Daddy at Home Depot to pick up a steel door to put on my laundry room) she was still trying to finish her throwing up episode at the toilet. After standing for a few minutes with her head hung over the toilet, she reaches over for her little step stool she uses to climb up onto the potty. Instead of climbing up onto the potty, she pulled it over and sat down on it in front of the potty. I certainly never suggested it, but she had felt so rotten, and since I was on the phone with Mommy, she figured out what to do all by herself. She was sick. Too sick to stand. Solved problem by
herself. There are somethings that you can see the humor in even when one you love is very sick, if you just look.Even though it was a sad, sad thing it was so cute she had figured out what to do.
As she and I waited for Mommy, I told her that I would take care of her until Mommy got over here for her. She listened as I told her I would care for her and then she said, "Me and Mommy were both sick the last time!" To which I reminded her, Yes, and I had taken care of both of them then. (More her than Mommy. Mommy had to fend for herself that time since Annabelle was my top priority.) This had been many, many months ago since they had been at our house and the two of them were sick at the same time. Her memory is something else.
Mommy came and took Annabelle's temperature the way she takes it and it was 101.9. This was after I had been washing her face and body off with a wet cloth to try to help break the fever. Mommy gave her some Tylenol and she was playing around feeling a little better, but not really up to her old self. She was so very, very pale. Mommy talked her into the two of them going on home.
Work Deadlines or no Work Deadlines, sometimes Mommies and only Mommies are what they need to recover.
Hope you feel better soon, Sweetie. I love you, All the way to the Moon and back!
The Country Mouse and The City Mouse
When Annabelle spent Saturday night with us, she and I went through the ritual of reading books, singing, etc. before bedtime. She loves some of the small, thin versions of some of the classic tales and could read them over and over again without tiring of them.
The Country Mouse and The City Mouse was one of her choices for the night, this time. As I began reading to her, she stopped me, hopped down and flew out of the room. I was completely surprised, since I knew she was enjoying the book. But I waited, because without a doubt there had to be logic behind the leaving.
She re-entered the room almost as fast as she had left it, with something clutched inside her little hands. She carefully placed it into my hand and said, "Dare, Grandmomma." She had brought me the computer mouse from my computer. She had remembered seeing it when I had moved it earlier in the night. Everybody needs a Country Mouse, a City Mouse and a Computer Mouse when they read a good story!
It never ceases to amaze me just what is going on inside that sweet little girl's head.
Feel better soon, Sweetheart, Grandmomma's missed you! Captain D's is not the same without you. Your Great Aunt, Great Uncle, Granddaddy and Grandmomma all said so. It's all just a dull meal without you to entertain us!
The Country Mouse and The City Mouse was one of her choices for the night, this time. As I began reading to her, she stopped me, hopped down and flew out of the room. I was completely surprised, since I knew she was enjoying the book. But I waited, because without a doubt there had to be logic behind the leaving.
She re-entered the room almost as fast as she had left it, with something clutched inside her little hands. She carefully placed it into my hand and said, "Dare, Grandmomma." She had brought me the computer mouse from my computer. She had remembered seeing it when I had moved it earlier in the night. Everybody needs a Country Mouse, a City Mouse and a Computer Mouse when they read a good story!
It never ceases to amaze me just what is going on inside that sweet little girl's head.
Feel better soon, Sweetheart, Grandmomma's missed you! Captain D's is not the same without you. Your Great Aunt, Great Uncle, Granddaddy and Grandmomma all said so. It's all just a dull meal without you to entertain us!
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Little Attitude
So, tonight was the first time since I broke my shoulder and another bone or two since Annabelle has spent the night with us. Mommy and Daddy had a date night that didn't include her. It was planned at least four months or more ago, so I knew I had to get over this shoulder mess by this time, at least enough to handle Annabelle. With Granddaddy's help, of course.
She's always a pleasure to take with us. She never complains, she just goes where ever we go and if we say she needs to stay in the car this time, she does and if next time she can get out she also does.
She was her usual squirmy little self tonight at McDonald's, but while she had to go potty a big group of people came in and occupied the spots next to us, therefore keeping her more confined. Thank goodness for small blessings.
She was cooperative during our final runs of errands and then it was back to the house for some playtime. She loves playing on the screened in porch, then we went inside for a few things to entertain us there. I had bought some Tangrams which I introduced her to for the first time tonight. She loved making the different shapes with them and when she was finished I mentioned to her the different colored zipper represented the color that held that particular color shape so she could put them back in their right bag. Being the little renegade she is, she didn't want them put back into the bag they were supposed to go in, so she changed the color bag and the color shape into different ones. Just because she could.
She had taken one that we called a pie (really it was a triangle shape) in for Granddaddy to 'eat'. Granddaddy asked her what it was. She came running back into the room with me pretending to cry. "Granddaddy didn't know it was a piece of pie!" says she. Sometimes Granddaddy just doesn't see things like Annabelle and I do.
As we put them away for the night into their big plastic container, she took the lid and turned it first this way (wrong way, of course) and said, "Is dis right?" Then another way which she knew was wrong and we played this game throughout every possible way it could have been wrong before she hit the right spot. She knew, she knew what she was doing! This is a game for her. She just messes with your mind, she thinks. I have no doubt she knew which was the right way to begin with. She's just challenging you. Pretty smart, I think, if you ask me.
Mommy said she probably would need to go to bed early, so we started around 7:45. It was around 8:30 before I finally got her into bed. It really wasn't her fault, though. We did our songs, (one was Mommy's song because she didn't remember the words to it and I certainly didn't know it, so it must have been Mommy's song), our books to read, our peppermint patty, our juice and water and then I sent her to go potty and then to brush her teeth. All had gone just fine until the teethbrushing episode.
Part of me said, "Remove her shirt before she brushes her teeth." The other part apparently wanted to live dangerously and left the silly pajama shirt on. Yep, by the time she had finished brushing her teeth she had wet the entire front of her pajama shirt. No problem, I thought. This would be a good time for my new dryer to jump into action and show just how fast it could dry that little shirt. I sent Granddaddy in to throw it into the dryer. After a few minutes it still wasn't dry. Then I took matters into my own hands and threw in a dry towel to help absorb the moisture. That didn't help. After probably 10 minutes or more of trying to dry that silly shirt I gave up. It had letters saying 'sleepy head' on the front and those letters had no intentions of drying tonight. So, I did the next best thing. I scrounged through her bag and found a bright lime green one. Bright enough to match those pajama pants I thought. I came toward her to put it over her head and she promptly says, "Grandmomma, that doesn't match!" "What?" Again she said the same thing. At this point it was so funny I had to laugh at her to her face. "Little attitude!" I told her and pulled that lime green top over that cute little head and left the room. It's dark when the lights are out, Annabelle, it doesn't matter if they don't match. Believe me! It won't bother me half as much as it bothers you, really it won't. Good night, I love you!
I do love you and unless you do something to change my mind before your Mommy and Daddy come to get you tomorrow, I'll still love you...all the way to the moon and back. And that's a long, long way. They even have to go on rocket ships to get there and back.
Hope you had a good time, Mommy and Daddy. And don't forget to bring my camera back tomorrow. You can download the pictures before you leave home!
She's always a pleasure to take with us. She never complains, she just goes where ever we go and if we say she needs to stay in the car this time, she does and if next time she can get out she also does.
She was her usual squirmy little self tonight at McDonald's, but while she had to go potty a big group of people came in and occupied the spots next to us, therefore keeping her more confined. Thank goodness for small blessings.
She was cooperative during our final runs of errands and then it was back to the house for some playtime. She loves playing on the screened in porch, then we went inside for a few things to entertain us there. I had bought some Tangrams which I introduced her to for the first time tonight. She loved making the different shapes with them and when she was finished I mentioned to her the different colored zipper represented the color that held that particular color shape so she could put them back in their right bag. Being the little renegade she is, she didn't want them put back into the bag they were supposed to go in, so she changed the color bag and the color shape into different ones. Just because she could.
She had taken one that we called a pie (really it was a triangle shape) in for Granddaddy to 'eat'. Granddaddy asked her what it was. She came running back into the room with me pretending to cry. "Granddaddy didn't know it was a piece of pie!" says she. Sometimes Granddaddy just doesn't see things like Annabelle and I do.
As we put them away for the night into their big plastic container, she took the lid and turned it first this way (wrong way, of course) and said, "Is dis right?" Then another way which she knew was wrong and we played this game throughout every possible way it could have been wrong before she hit the right spot. She knew, she knew what she was doing! This is a game for her. She just messes with your mind, she thinks. I have no doubt she knew which was the right way to begin with. She's just challenging you. Pretty smart, I think, if you ask me.
Mommy said she probably would need to go to bed early, so we started around 7:45. It was around 8:30 before I finally got her into bed. It really wasn't her fault, though. We did our songs, (one was Mommy's song because she didn't remember the words to it and I certainly didn't know it, so it must have been Mommy's song), our books to read, our peppermint patty, our juice and water and then I sent her to go potty and then to brush her teeth. All had gone just fine until the teethbrushing episode.
Part of me said, "Remove her shirt before she brushes her teeth." The other part apparently wanted to live dangerously and left the silly pajama shirt on. Yep, by the time she had finished brushing her teeth she had wet the entire front of her pajama shirt. No problem, I thought. This would be a good time for my new dryer to jump into action and show just how fast it could dry that little shirt. I sent Granddaddy in to throw it into the dryer. After a few minutes it still wasn't dry. Then I took matters into my own hands and threw in a dry towel to help absorb the moisture. That didn't help. After probably 10 minutes or more of trying to dry that silly shirt I gave up. It had letters saying 'sleepy head' on the front and those letters had no intentions of drying tonight. So, I did the next best thing. I scrounged through her bag and found a bright lime green one. Bright enough to match those pajama pants I thought. I came toward her to put it over her head and she promptly says, "Grandmomma, that doesn't match!" "What?" Again she said the same thing. At this point it was so funny I had to laugh at her to her face. "Little attitude!" I told her and pulled that lime green top over that cute little head and left the room. It's dark when the lights are out, Annabelle, it doesn't matter if they don't match. Believe me! It won't bother me half as much as it bothers you, really it won't. Good night, I love you!
I do love you and unless you do something to change my mind before your Mommy and Daddy come to get you tomorrow, I'll still love you...all the way to the moon and back. And that's a long, long way. They even have to go on rocket ships to get there and back.
Hope you had a good time, Mommy and Daddy. And don't forget to bring my camera back tomorrow. You can download the pictures before you leave home!
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