Physical Therapy

I just marked new territory in my crutchedyness. I was crutching myself to the kitchen to get a water and I felt my nose running, and instead of crutching "all the way to the bathroom" to get something to wipe it off, I used the bottom of my shirt (the inside part on the bottom, so no one can see it). I guess that also solidifies that I'm still redneck in my roots.

I had physical therapy today. I had to schedule this appointment 5 weeks ago. I was very proud that 1. I remembered the appointment and 2. I still had the referral from the doctor filed and I was able to locate it within 5 minutes. Both of those things qualify me as a grown-up. They had me come in at 11:20 for my 11:50 appointment, that way I can fill out the 5 minutes of paperwork and then sit there for 25 minutes in the waiting room. The paperwork had this drawing of a guy's front and back and they wanted me to draw in where the problem is and where I need help. I found great enjoyment in drawing in the tumor on the right acetabulum, then writing out to the side "there was a big tumor here, and now there is a permeative lytic osteolysis", and I pointed an arrow to the blob I drew. Then I drew arrows to the poor man's quads, hamstrings, calfs and gluteouses maximumusses and said that I "need muscles here". The physical therapist said that she appreciated my drawings, and I am glad, because I had been sitting there in her waiting room laughing to myself like an idiot while drawing them. She did some range-of-motion stuff on my leg and measured how far I could bend it. Then she had me do these isometric exercises that were pretty tiring. It felt great to actually move my leg around. I was given the go-ahead to start really using my leg and moving and stretching it, but I have to remain non-weight-bearing until the orthopods clear me.