This morning I had my first session of in-home physical therapy. I cried three times: first when I was shown than I could pull my foot back and kick better than I had imagined, second with the relief that comes from knowing I don't have to figure this out all by myself and third at the mere thought of perhaps, one day, again dancing a step or two. The therapist reminded me that not all dancing is done standing up. I will keep my options open.
We begin where we are. We work with what we have. We work and we work some more. I began the exercises last Thursday and can tell I am able to do a bit more. Life has this galling ability to cloud the mind, to make it seem as though everything has to be done right now, to send us into overwhelm which is the last stop before paralysis. I have never been here before. On my best days I need to sit and collect myself, my thoughts, my possibilities and then I need to sleep. Much to be discovered, more to be revealed. It is the first day of kindergarten. I may cry again before the day is over. I have no problem with that.
Blessings for all who help us, in their unique and necessary ways, become more than we thought we could.
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16 comments:
i am so glad for you that you are doing this, marylinn. i like seeing you as your body parts come alive bit by bit, surprising you with their memory of the dances they used to do. it will happen. i am not much of a pollyanna, but i do believe that we underestimate our capability to change, in so many ways.
Marylinn, they won't be the last tears you'll shed, but all the important things are composed of salt water, as Isak Dinesen famously said: sweat, tears and the sea. Sending all love to you, dear friend, for the courage to do the necessary work, and of which I have no doubt you have enough and more than. xoxo Sissy
Oh Marylinn, big news! You will dance again, you absolutely will. I'm holding my hand out for you and perhaps crying helps lubricate our bodies. They are good tears. Keep going!
this Memo makes ME cry!!!
The most valuable piece is always the "bit by tiny bit" reminder. Slowly, gently. Self compassion every step of the way. SO SO Happy for you...
Susan - The shift from seeing change as something to slide away from rather than run toward, so to speak. Thank you. Inspiring stories out there, I try to pay attention. xo
Melissa - No matter what I'm doing, I can count on there being tears. So it goes. Thank you. The sweating part will come sooner than desired when we head into record-breaking territory in a day or so. Exercises, no matter what. xo
Rachel - Thank you. Perhaps limber, perhaps not, but always softened by tears and I'll happily accept limber. Oh, would I. Keeping on and glad for your hand. xo
Lisa - Thank you. Tiny, tiny, tiny. And great patience in all things, my lesson over and over. xo
And above all, be gentle with yourself. Like Lisa, this post made me cry too. May I have the first dance?
Erin
beautiful post.
Erin - Thank you and I am finding the balance between gentle, not yanking on my arm to move myself along, and not being a weenie. Feeling happy about exercise is new territory. And yes, to celebrate your joy and my new leaf, the first dance with you. I can't wait. xo
Angella - Thank you. We keep on keeping on. xo
It's better to feel pain than feel nothing at all. The fact that you can feel pain for every twist and turn during physical therapy is a good sign. It means they have pinpointed what's causing the pain and know how they can treat it. Wishing for your fast recovery, Marylinn!
-Sienna Christie @ FtLauderdaleOrtho
Sienna - Thank you. They have done a fine job diagnosing the weakest areas and I am now working on my own, doing my best to remember it is a process and I did not arrive at this place overnight. Always much to learn. I appreciate your encouragement. xo
Never lose hope, Marylinn. Yours is not a hopeless case; you can still find a way to dance again. Hope for your fast recovery. Cheers!
-Javier Carol @ USHealthWorks (Everett-Broadway-Center)
Javier - Thank you so much for your encouraging words. It does not feel as though mine is a hopeless case. Difficult, slow to progress, sadly lacking spontaneous, miraculous recovery yet still hope-filled. I appreciate your positive comment. xo
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