I went to physio today in a somewhat
hungover tired state. We had Christmas dinner #2 with our dear friends The Cuppys last night. In between courses I taught the Cuppy Boy how to loom beanies and discussed the virtues of shreds with the Cuppy Girl. Here’s the one I showed her, a personal favourite:
As she watched it and giggled occasionally I had a realisation that I might have become the boring adult who tries to be cool with kids. But then I realised that no, she just didn’t get it. Or maybe she did and wasn’t amused. I don’t know. But surely I am not a boring adult? Surely not!!
Physio was… disappointing. Lots of muscle wastage still, lots of missing awareness still. And here’s the thing: I love going to physio and I am loving that I am slowly able to increase activity and so on, and I appreciate that there are more people than just me there and I love that the local oldies seem to love going to play in the pool… But it shits me when, for example, the oldies are having their Christmas party in the middle of the gym area, and therefore preventing anyone from using the treadmill or the balance gear. Or when they are chatting in the pool and blocking the edges and the equipment. It isn’t fair. And I’m trying really hard to be mindful that this is social for them and they’ve made friends and celebrated victories together and all of those things. But man. I just want to walk properly.
Here is how my ankle looks now, just over two months post-reconstruction:
Yes, that is a heap of tape. It wraps around my ankle, around my calf and ends just below my knee. The aim of it is to increase awareness of what muscles I have to turn on when I use my foot. The physio talked about potentially needing an orthotic and what the surgeon might say in February and a heap of other stuff, but all I heard was your ankle is not better, this is not a one-off thing, it might not be over for ages and you will never have a fully functional ankle. So I finished at physio, got in the car, cracked a teary then bought the fruit and veges.
And it’s funny because when I got home I realised I had purchased fruit that was labelled “2ND GRADE”.
Fidge is still in hospital and the vet is going to see if she will eat tonight. It’s a long road for us both I guess.
Now my beloved is watching Rocky and Scout is rolling around on the rug, big feet flying. Zelda and Harry are ying-yanged beside me and I’m dwelling. I’m dwelling on thoughts and feelings and I should try to stop. So I think I will find some chocolate.
What are you up to? How goes the Christmas prep?