Therapy or Terror-py?

*feel free to comment on any of my posts, whether you are a Blogger user or not. I've changed my settings to allow all of my web-using friends to drop notes on my weblog! *

Though I still walk with a noticeable limp, things south of my knee are steadily improving. It looks worse than it is, with the purply-black bruises adorning the left side of my foot, but the physical therapy sessions that I started yesterday are sure to put me on the road to recovery. Even if the sessions are a bit strange.

The pleasant, young, blonde therapist who was working on me asked me what my "goals" of physiotherapy were. It was hard for me not to answer that question with the obvious "um...my goal is to not feel like crap", but I bit the bullet and replied with some cheesy, plastic response ("I want to learn how to improve my health overall and avoid future injury). After some strange tests and a somewhat uncomfortable "massage" of my plump ankle, she hooked me up--quite literally--to a machine that sent electrical shocks to my leg. It was a 1960's looking computer thing, rolled in on a cart, complete with the sticky pad and wires, hooked onto four carefully chosen spots on my foot and leg. I found myself feeling slightly panicked, as if my foot were about to undergo a lie detector test (had my foot been dishonest?). I imagined the machine asking my foot questions like "so Tanya wasn't actually carrying anything when she tripped over the curb?" or "has she sprained you before?" perhaps "have you been forced involuntarily into stilettos in the past month?" My foot would have to shamefully answer "yes" to all accounts. I think my feet STILL hurt from those notorious $70.00 strappies I wore to Meg's wedding.

Anyway, other than the podiatry lie-detector device, the rest of the appointment was fine. She gave me some exercises to do, including tracing the alphabet with my foot thrice a day. Hey, it's harder than it sounds. I keep forgetting "W." I sure hope everyone else dumps the "W" on November 2nd...

Well, tomorrow is the one-week anniversary of "the fall." I hope it'll get better soon so it can stop dominating all of my blog posts. For now, I just bask in the glow of the sympathetic looks and the I'll-get-that-for-yous. The Chairman/CEO/owner of our company (for whom I work) was so concerned that he left me a little note by my computer before he left for vacation. "Sorry to hear about your ankle! Here's to a speedy recovery!" He asks about it every time he calls into the office. It's very sweet.

Here's to a speedy recovery indeed.