Today was my first *real* physical therapy session, and it was amazing. Like…the most painful massage in the world, but I felt looser and I learned a lot, which are two good goals.
That is… until I woke up the next morning and couldn’t move. Everything was right back to the way that it was while on the patch and I was MISERABLE. Plus, the physical therapy place keeps screwing up my appointments, and I’m having what leave I have earned slowly dripping away.
I hate this. I hate 100% of this, and sometimes I question whether I doing this to myself was a mistake. Everyone who’s been through chemo and radiation and much worse pain would scoff at my selfishness… but in some ways, I imagine my pain compares some to their own.
Work is, however, getting better and while my boss and I are at odds over leave and hours, she’s trying to be flexible with me and has noticed the EXTREME improvement in my work – both ethic and productivity. This is a pace I’m not sure I can keep up, but at least I’m not staring at the wall anymore.
Up A (Giant) Hill 