Pooped

Today was yet another big day: my first full day back at work (whew) and my first physical therapy appointment (double whew).

Work was basically the same as half-day, but doubled. I got to experience trying to get lunch from the cafeteria via wheelchair (Jules and Alicia helped -- thanks, girls!) and also just juggling double the amount of ... stuff. It was good, in a way, though I was beyond exhausted at the end of the day: I think full days are going to help me feel more like I fit in and am still part of the team, something I've been struggling with. My team ROCKS and have been just awesome to me, but it's hard to fit into a Colleen-shaped hole when the Colleen-shape itself has changed. And that? Was a totally sucky metaphor. Sorry, I'm tired. Let me try again, in plain English: I've changed (it would be hard not to have, honestly, given all that's happened), as has work, and I need to figure how the "new" me and the job fit together now.

Man, I really AM tired.

OK, on to a new topic: physical therapy ahoy! I started PT tonight, and am excited. It hurt, but it was good. I stretched and have new exercises, and actually walked 10 feet or so with no boot and a walker ... if you consider "lurching across the floor inch by inch as though possessed by the spirt of Frankstein's monster" to be walking. As of late I've really learned to count my blessings so I DO count it, even if it took me approximately five minutes to walk those 10'.


Once the stretching and lurching was done, I was attached to the electrostim machine where little electrodes were stuck to my ankle/foot and delivered continuous electrical "stim" (aka "shocks") to "stimulate" (aka "ouch") my muscles. See my leg attached, above.

While I was sitting being "stimmed" (aka "No, really -- ouch"), I noticed this blue bad boy on the wall. This, friends, is the BAPS board. Remember that name, because I can almost guarantee I will be spending large amounts of time with that blue devil before all is said and done.

For the record: I hate the BAPS board. It works, but it sucks.

Eventually, after working for nine hours and PT-ing for one, I finally made it home with some Chinese takeout and a yen for sleep. Which is where I'm headed now, actually, but I wanted to share this photo with you. It's me -- or, rather, my feet. Both of them, broken left and slightly twisted right. On the floor, together, no boot. No nothing. Just me, my feet and the floor, standing, the way it should be.

Amen.