I'm sorry what? You want to walk me on a leash?

I waited to write this post because I was on a rampage, and I wanted something good to happen before I blurted it all out on the debACLe page.

Last Thursday marked 4 weeks since surgery. One whole month! It just so happened that I had a PT appointment. Up until this hell day, PT was uncomfortable, a little painful, hard work, but it was tolerable. I walk in and I am seeing the PTA today for the first time. Originally I would have seen the PTA every other time, but because my case is rare and also fragile at first, the PT stayed with me for the first couple weeks.

Let the pain and horribleness begin. After my usual warm up exercises, he tells me we are going to walk for the first time. This might sound silly, but I literally have to learn to walk on my left leg again. What used to be a mindless activity is actually difficult. I don't have full range of motion and I have minimal muscle strength in my leg, so even holding up my body is difficult. BUT that being said, I had already cheated and I have been doing it a little bit at home. He then straps a belt around me with a leash. Are you kidding me? I ask him if he's joking. He is not.

For the next 10 minutes I get walked around the office like a dog. I am not being dramatic. 10 minutes doesn't seem like a long time, until you are being walked around the office in front of other people like a dog. I now feel guilty putting a leash on my own dog because it is not a good time. When we are done, he informs me that I did way better than he thought I would, I didn't even need the harness once (ya think?)

Then I lay on the table, Highway to Hell by AC/DC starts playing and then I was literally on the highway to hell. Stretching used to be one of my favorite things to do-- now that word stretching makes me cringe and want to kick someone in the teeth. I made a deal with myself that I would not ever cry while doing my PT. Crying shows weakness, and I want no delays in my recovery. However, this pain is so bad that my face turns purple (according to the PTA) and I had tears jumping out of my eyeballs. I don't consider it crying, because my definition of crying is sounds, quivering facial muscles, tears, and ugly cry face. I did none of those things... except tears.

In case you are wondering... here is my montage of celebrity ugly cry faces:

Who knew that bending my knee would be so miserable. Also 2nd worst stretching technique of the day: laying face down off a table with my knees and below hanging off... then putting weights on my ankle to try and force it straight. Swell!

After I told him I hated him and that he was a horrible person, 1. because he is a professional torturer, 2. because he showed no sympathy for me, and 3. i like to bitch and complain.... I got the usual ice and stim and was sent on my way--

On the drive home I decided that starting with the leash of embarassment erased all my dignity that I had left which put me in a not so good place for the activities that followed. I considered never going back, but hello can I be more dramatic. Nope. I would show him. I would go back ready for more torture the next time. I just needed the 4 days in between to get over it and hate him less.