With a new season comes a change in footwear. As the weather warms up, out come the flats and flip flops. It often inspires the "need" to buy new shoes as well. If you combine the two, new shoes in a style you haven't worn for awhile, they will likely hurt to wear at first.
I bought new flats yesterday and wore them out knowing they would probably hurt/cut my feet by the end of the night. We've all been there. Right ladies? Just as I had anticipated, I ended up with a small cut on the back of my left heel. It made perfect sense seeing, for the most part, that's the foot I do all my walking with. Usually one spot in particular, or one foot over the other will cause the most pain.When this happens you end up favouring that foot to compensate. That's where I ran into a problem. I couldn't change the way I was walking to alleviate any of the pain. I had no choice but to continue walking the exact same way. I tried relying on my crutches a little more and could balance on them whenever I was standing still but that was about it. As far as breaking in new shoes go, it wasn't the worst. It was just frustrating not to be able to change up the way I was walking to make it feel a little better. Although, once the cut/blister is there, I don't know that there is ever really a way to make it feel better as you walk. We definitely try but I think generally speaking, we are only successful in making ourselves look funny as we hop or limp along, longing for the moment we get home.
After a couple more wears I think they will be comfy shoes that I'll end up wearing all the time. At least I hope so.
Saturday 31 March 2012
Thursday 29 March 2012
Gooooaaaalllllll ...Post
This past weekend our sledge hockey season came to an end. We had one last practice Saturday before our final game on Sunday. Unfortunately we lost the game but had a lot of fun despite the outcome. Unlike our last game, there were two other females playing on our team this time. In the third period our coaches put the three of us on the same line together, all as forwards. It was actually a fantastic line.There was great communication between us and some great passing. We played and treated each other as equals, which not all the players do, and by doing so our shifts had some great momentum. By far my favourite line of the season.
While on with the girls I even had a shot on net. I came so close to scoring my first goal but it went off the post. Do to the direction and speed I came into the shot with, I actually ended up in the net after the shot. There just wasn't enough room or time to stop or get around the net. I did manage to avoid the goalie at least. My intention was not to take him out. I really hadn't planned to end up in the net though either. I didn't actually know I had hit the post until we came off and one of the girls mentioned that I'd hit it. It was nice to know I hadn't missed entirely. You know what? After only playing for 10 weeks, I'll take a shot hitting the goal post. Of course it would have been amazing if I'd scored in my first season but I'm still pretty proud.
To conclude the season we also had an awards party. I was given the "Spirit Award". Seems pretty fitting.
I fully intend to play again next season but have yet to decide if I will try out for the Rep Team or play on the Select Team again. Either way I have a couple months to decide. I'm looking forward to playing the entire season next year instead of joining halfway through.
Now to find a new sport to try this spring/summer.
While on with the girls I even had a shot on net. I came so close to scoring my first goal but it went off the post. Do to the direction and speed I came into the shot with, I actually ended up in the net after the shot. There just wasn't enough room or time to stop or get around the net. I did manage to avoid the goalie at least. My intention was not to take him out. I really hadn't planned to end up in the net though either. I didn't actually know I had hit the post until we came off and one of the girls mentioned that I'd hit it. It was nice to know I hadn't missed entirely. You know what? After only playing for 10 weeks, I'll take a shot hitting the goal post. Of course it would have been amazing if I'd scored in my first season but I'm still pretty proud.
To conclude the season we also had an awards party. I was given the "Spirit Award". Seems pretty fitting.
I fully intend to play again next season but have yet to decide if I will try out for the Rep Team or play on the Select Team again. Either way I have a couple months to decide. I'm looking forward to playing the entire season next year instead of joining halfway through.
Now to find a new sport to try this spring/summer.
Wednesday 21 March 2012
Taking My Life Back: Step 241
What is Step 241?
Going back to work.
Why is it Step 241?
My first day back to work came 241 days after my final discharge from the hospital (following my stay post surgery). I figure "Taking My Life Back: Step 1" was the day I was discharged. Every single day since I've been working towards taking my life back. Some days stand out more than others but every moment, no matter how small, has been fighting towards the same goal.
When you are diagnosed with cancer, you aren't given a choice. It's this major life change you have no control over. You have this new "way of life" you have to just go with. Getting your life back to normal is a different story. It's all up to you. It's not just going to happen by itself or overnight. It's a conscious decision you have to make every day until your life is back to the way you want it. The way it should be. This is why I've said taking my life back and not getting my life back. You have to make it happen.
Work yesterday was good. Thanks to the gradual return to work plan I only had to go in for 4 hours. I spent the first 2 hours being caught up on everything that had changed in our department since I left 16 months ago. For the remaining 2 hours I started learning the new program we use for nearly everything now. I have several more hours of training to go on that. I couldn't help but start yawning after about 3 hours of being there. It's the longest I've had to pay attention or concentrate on anything in over a year.
I was tired out by the end of the 4 hours but it wasn't too bad. My tailbone was quite sore though. Without my right sitting bone, my tailbone now takes a lot of the pressure and weight when I'm sitting. Having to sit properly in a chair for hours on end is going to be my biggest challenge returning to work. Arms and tailbone were still a bit sore today, more than usual, but nothing too extreme.
Thank you to my amazing girlfriends who sent me "good luck on your 1st day back to work" flowers and card. Unfortunately I couldn't come up with a way to carry them home with me so I put them out in the common work space to brighten up the place. Before leaving I told one of my co-workers he was in charge of making sure they were still alive on Friday, when I'll be in for my next 4 hour day.
Going back to work.
Why is it Step 241?
My first day back to work came 241 days after my final discharge from the hospital (following my stay post surgery). I figure "Taking My Life Back: Step 1" was the day I was discharged. Every single day since I've been working towards taking my life back. Some days stand out more than others but every moment, no matter how small, has been fighting towards the same goal.
When you are diagnosed with cancer, you aren't given a choice. It's this major life change you have no control over. You have this new "way of life" you have to just go with. Getting your life back to normal is a different story. It's all up to you. It's not just going to happen by itself or overnight. It's a conscious decision you have to make every day until your life is back to the way you want it. The way it should be. This is why I've said taking my life back and not getting my life back. You have to make it happen.
Work yesterday was good. Thanks to the gradual return to work plan I only had to go in for 4 hours. I spent the first 2 hours being caught up on everything that had changed in our department since I left 16 months ago. For the remaining 2 hours I started learning the new program we use for nearly everything now. I have several more hours of training to go on that. I couldn't help but start yawning after about 3 hours of being there. It's the longest I've had to pay attention or concentrate on anything in over a year.
I was tired out by the end of the 4 hours but it wasn't too bad. My tailbone was quite sore though. Without my right sitting bone, my tailbone now takes a lot of the pressure and weight when I'm sitting. Having to sit properly in a chair for hours on end is going to be my biggest challenge returning to work. Arms and tailbone were still a bit sore today, more than usual, but nothing too extreme.
Thank you to my amazing girlfriends who sent me "good luck on your 1st day back to work" flowers and card. Unfortunately I couldn't come up with a way to carry them home with me so I put them out in the common work space to brighten up the place. Before leaving I told one of my co-workers he was in charge of making sure they were still alive on Friday, when I'll be in for my next 4 hour day.
Monday 19 March 2012
Nervous Excitement
Back to work I go! I have been off work now for exactly 16 months. I can't believe it has been that long.
I began the process of returning to work at least a month and a half ago. Between informing my long term disability contact / insurance company that I was ready to go back and actually going back to work several things have happened. I had an hour and a half phone assessment/interview, various emails between me and my insurance, contact between my insurance and HR where I work, the drafting of a gradual return to work plan, minor tweaking of the plan, more contact between insurance and HR, signed approval of the plan from my surgeon, and finally an official back to work date. It would seem returning to work is more difficult than going on leave.
Tomorrow, March 20th 2012, is my official first day back since November 20th 2010. Again, it seems unreal that it has been so long. In some ways it feels like only a couple months ago I was working full time. But when I think of all that I've gone through and everything that has changed in my life since I was last at work, the 16 months seems much more believable.
I am very excited to be returning to work. I'm looking forward to having more to do with my days. It will also be really nice to have to use my brain again. Although it may take awhile for some of my braincells to wake up, they've been hibernating for quite some time now. Being around others and having people to socialize with, even if it's work related, will be fantastic. And while I did have long term disability coverage and was receiving a reduced percentage of my pay, I look forward to earning my full salary again.
Despite the excitement, I'm also really nervous about returning to work. It's not that I truly believe I can't handle it or won't be ok, I wouldn't have said I'd go back if I thought that, I just can't help but worry about it. I'm afraid it will be too much for me, that I'll be exhausted or really sore. I'm concerned I won't be able to sit in an office chair for that long. At the same time I hope I don't end up standing or walking around too much throughout the day either.
My return to work will be a gradual one which helps alleviate some of the stress and worry about it being too much to handle. I'm only actually working 4 hours tomorrow. The same goes for Friday. My progression back to full time is spread out over 7 weeks. Each week increasing the number of hours and/or days. On the 8th week, May 7th, I'm scheduled to return to full time hours. I work for a great employer and have a manager and co-workers who I'm sure will be really helpful and understanding and will make this an easy transition back for me. Besides, there's no turning back now. The plan is already in place.
Now I just need to remember where I put my set of work keys.
I began the process of returning to work at least a month and a half ago. Between informing my long term disability contact / insurance company that I was ready to go back and actually going back to work several things have happened. I had an hour and a half phone assessment/interview, various emails between me and my insurance, contact between my insurance and HR where I work, the drafting of a gradual return to work plan, minor tweaking of the plan, more contact between insurance and HR, signed approval of the plan from my surgeon, and finally an official back to work date. It would seem returning to work is more difficult than going on leave.
Tomorrow, March 20th 2012, is my official first day back since November 20th 2010. Again, it seems unreal that it has been so long. In some ways it feels like only a couple months ago I was working full time. But when I think of all that I've gone through and everything that has changed in my life since I was last at work, the 16 months seems much more believable.
I am very excited to be returning to work. I'm looking forward to having more to do with my days. It will also be really nice to have to use my brain again. Although it may take awhile for some of my braincells to wake up, they've been hibernating for quite some time now. Being around others and having people to socialize with, even if it's work related, will be fantastic. And while I did have long term disability coverage and was receiving a reduced percentage of my pay, I look forward to earning my full salary again.
Despite the excitement, I'm also really nervous about returning to work. It's not that I truly believe I can't handle it or won't be ok, I wouldn't have said I'd go back if I thought that, I just can't help but worry about it. I'm afraid it will be too much for me, that I'll be exhausted or really sore. I'm concerned I won't be able to sit in an office chair for that long. At the same time I hope I don't end up standing or walking around too much throughout the day either.
My return to work will be a gradual one which helps alleviate some of the stress and worry about it being too much to handle. I'm only actually working 4 hours tomorrow. The same goes for Friday. My progression back to full time is spread out over 7 weeks. Each week increasing the number of hours and/or days. On the 8th week, May 7th, I'm scheduled to return to full time hours. I work for a great employer and have a manager and co-workers who I'm sure will be really helpful and understanding and will make this an easy transition back for me. Besides, there's no turning back now. The plan is already in place.
Now I just need to remember where I put my set of work keys.
Sunday 18 March 2012
Brreeeeeeaaaaakkkk
A good friend will let you drive their car. A great friend will let you drive their car post surgery, knowing full well this is part of a test/experiment to see how well you can drive now.
We had talked about it before, that one day maybe she would let me drive her car so I could practice and see how well I could drive. When we got together on Friday she surprised me by suggesting we give it a try. I was excited. Yes, I did try driving about 5 months ago. It had gone well but I wasn't confident enough in my abilities at that stage to drive anywhere other than the back roads by parents house. Not knowing if my improvements over the past months would translate into more functional driving, we opted to try out my skills in a small, quiet parking lot to start.
The first thing I decided was that I won't be able to wear my modified shoes while driving. My leg length discrepancy comes from the hip area, so the distance from my knee to foot hasn't changed. If I was to leave my modified shoes on it would be like driving with platform shoes on. Because those were the shoes I was wearing at the time, my friend and I switched shoes. Or rather I just took hers. Luckily we wear the same size.
I practiced moving my foot back and forth between the gas and break pedals several times before even starting the car. A couple times just to get the feel of it and go through the motions. Then a couple times as if I had to slam on the break quickly. Next was to give it a real try. My focus was on "foot work". I've been driving for 11 years and surgery didn't impact any other aspects of my ability to drive. We did one length of the parking lot coasting a bit and then breaking, coasting, then breaking. Typically this would be really boring but I was having fun. It's a little like being 16 all over again and learning to drive, but with so much more knowledge of how to actually drive. It was also quite entertaining because my friend and I would both yell out different things like STOP, pedestrian, kids, and I'd slam on the break. So we were laughing most of the time. I turned around, accelerated the length of the parking lot and stopped quickly at the end. Simulating a more realistic driving scenario.
It all felt very natural. After a little bit it wasn't really necessary for me to consciously think about my right leg and how it was moving. It felt similar to all the years I'd been driving before surgery. Over the last 5 months my control and ability to move my right leg has improved so much. It helps too that my lower leg (knee to foot) functions much better than actions lead by my quads. It's also very fortunate that driving doesn't require any real weight bearing.
I think it's safe to say driving will not be a problem for me. Living in the city it's not often I drive anymore, however, I am relieved to know it's not that I can't drive.
Thanks again for trusting me to drive your car! You know who you are :)
We had talked about it before, that one day maybe she would let me drive her car so I could practice and see how well I could drive. When we got together on Friday she surprised me by suggesting we give it a try. I was excited. Yes, I did try driving about 5 months ago. It had gone well but I wasn't confident enough in my abilities at that stage to drive anywhere other than the back roads by parents house. Not knowing if my improvements over the past months would translate into more functional driving, we opted to try out my skills in a small, quiet parking lot to start.
The first thing I decided was that I won't be able to wear my modified shoes while driving. My leg length discrepancy comes from the hip area, so the distance from my knee to foot hasn't changed. If I was to leave my modified shoes on it would be like driving with platform shoes on. Because those were the shoes I was wearing at the time, my friend and I switched shoes. Or rather I just took hers. Luckily we wear the same size.
I practiced moving my foot back and forth between the gas and break pedals several times before even starting the car. A couple times just to get the feel of it and go through the motions. Then a couple times as if I had to slam on the break quickly. Next was to give it a real try. My focus was on "foot work". I've been driving for 11 years and surgery didn't impact any other aspects of my ability to drive. We did one length of the parking lot coasting a bit and then breaking, coasting, then breaking. Typically this would be really boring but I was having fun. It's a little like being 16 all over again and learning to drive, but with so much more knowledge of how to actually drive. It was also quite entertaining because my friend and I would both yell out different things like STOP, pedestrian, kids, and I'd slam on the break. So we were laughing most of the time. I turned around, accelerated the length of the parking lot and stopped quickly at the end. Simulating a more realistic driving scenario.
It all felt very natural. After a little bit it wasn't really necessary for me to consciously think about my right leg and how it was moving. It felt similar to all the years I'd been driving before surgery. Over the last 5 months my control and ability to move my right leg has improved so much. It helps too that my lower leg (knee to foot) functions much better than actions lead by my quads. It's also very fortunate that driving doesn't require any real weight bearing.
I think it's safe to say driving will not be a problem for me. Living in the city it's not often I drive anymore, however, I am relieved to know it's not that I can't drive.
Thanks again for trusting me to drive your car! You know who you are :)
Friday 16 March 2012
Warning to Physiotherapists
Actions like this will not help change your profession's overall reputation/stereotype.
Personally, I love my physiotherapist. I can't say enough great things about her. There are, however, some unflattering labels some may use to describe physiotherapists in general. Examples would be names like "sadists" or comments such as "they torture you." These may be said jokingly or sometimes with some strong belief. But like I said, I'm a fan of mine. That's not to say there aren't days where I believe she's enjoying my pain, at least a little bit.
Earlier this week she had me working on abs. I had already done a couple sit-up variations and was moving on to the next set which was probably the most challenging/strenuous of those I was doing that day. They would have been tough to do just on the floor. Lucky me, I was also doing them on an incline. I started to struggle but was pushing through the pain. With just 3 left to go, I didn't get more than a couple inches off my back and basically fell back down. I gave it another attempt but it just wasn't happening.
That's when it happened. My therapist was so excited! I think this may have been the happiest I've ever seen her. Right up there with when I took my first steps with just one crutch but even more cheerful. This was the first time she had ever completely fatigued me. She definitely pushes me and I've struggled to finish sets before and on several occasions it has hurt to move the next day. But I've always managed to bear down and get through the exercise, whatever it is. Not this time. I think I made her day right then. Pretty sure she even did a little dance in the midst of her excitement.
So in moments like this, it's hard to argue with statements like "physiotherapists are sadists." If I wasn't completely convinced she was enjoying my pain then, it was confirmed the following day. I was in working with my rehabilitative Pilates instructor and as my physiotherapist told her what had happened the day before, you could see all the excitement and joy came back over her. I can't blame her. It was a first. And I still love her. Even with all the torturing.
I did finish that set. After giving me a minute to recover, she was great and encouraged me through the last 3 reps.
I think maybe I should add a small disclaimer to this post. Something along the lines of, "upon completion of reading this post, one is not allowed to torture me for writing it." Because I know she's going to read this.
Personally, I love my physiotherapist. I can't say enough great things about her. There are, however, some unflattering labels some may use to describe physiotherapists in general. Examples would be names like "sadists" or comments such as "they torture you." These may be said jokingly or sometimes with some strong belief. But like I said, I'm a fan of mine. That's not to say there aren't days where I believe she's enjoying my pain, at least a little bit.
Earlier this week she had me working on abs. I had already done a couple sit-up variations and was moving on to the next set which was probably the most challenging/strenuous of those I was doing that day. They would have been tough to do just on the floor. Lucky me, I was also doing them on an incline. I started to struggle but was pushing through the pain. With just 3 left to go, I didn't get more than a couple inches off my back and basically fell back down. I gave it another attempt but it just wasn't happening.
That's when it happened. My therapist was so excited! I think this may have been the happiest I've ever seen her. Right up there with when I took my first steps with just one crutch but even more cheerful. This was the first time she had ever completely fatigued me. She definitely pushes me and I've struggled to finish sets before and on several occasions it has hurt to move the next day. But I've always managed to bear down and get through the exercise, whatever it is. Not this time. I think I made her day right then. Pretty sure she even did a little dance in the midst of her excitement.
So in moments like this, it's hard to argue with statements like "physiotherapists are sadists." If I wasn't completely convinced she was enjoying my pain then, it was confirmed the following day. I was in working with my rehabilitative Pilates instructor and as my physiotherapist told her what had happened the day before, you could see all the excitement and joy came back over her. I can't blame her. It was a first. And I still love her. Even with all the torturing.
I did finish that set. After giving me a minute to recover, she was great and encouraged me through the last 3 reps.
I think maybe I should add a small disclaimer to this post. Something along the lines of, "upon completion of reading this post, one is not allowed to torture me for writing it." Because I know she's going to read this.
Tuesday 13 March 2012
Unexpected Highlight
Never would I have imagined this being the highlight of my day. Such a simple thing that a year ago I wouldn't have had a second thought about doing but that has seemed almost impossible since moving back into my apartment.
Let me take a step back first to explain something. I live in a walk out basement so all the windows other than those in my living room, which is at the front, are a little smaller and higher than normal windows. So typical basement windows. The window in my kitchen is also directly above the sink so to reach it you also have the width of the counter to deal with. I'm only 5'5" so to reach and open this window I've always had to stand on a chair or kneel on the counter.
I realised a couple months ago, when I set of the smoke detector cooking something, that I couldn't reach the window to let some air in. The thought of climbing up onto a chair and balancing while I opened the window seemed like a very bad idea and a fairly impossible task at the time. As of that moment and with every burnt bagel or over cooked item since, I've been reminded that I can't open my kitchen window.
After 8 months on crutches, I'm not just better at walking around but my ability to balance standing still without the crutches has improved immensely. I've also started trusting myself and what I'm capable of doing a little more all the time. With the amazing weather we've been having and today potentially being the warmest it's been yet, I came home from physio and started by leaving my front door open to let some light and fresh air in. After a little while I decided it was so nice out that I had to open up the rest of the windows in my apartment.
I started with my bedroom. Although it was more of a challenge than it used to be, it wasn't terribly hard. I did have to stand on the corner of my bed and lean over my dresser but I got it open. Feeling pretty good about having opened that window, I walked into the kitchen. I did pause for a moment before I did anything. I'm afraid this probably sounds a little bit ridiculous but think of a time when you were about to attempt something physically difficult that seemed almost impossible, it could be anything, but that you were determined to accomplish. There was a quick pep talk going on in my head. "You can do this. You can definitely do this. Of course I can do this."
I pulled a chair out and positioned it by the counter. Then with just another second of hesitation to decide which side would be best to jump up from, I hopped up onto the chair with my left foot. I had to let go of my crutches at this point because standing on the chair they were obviously to short to be of any use. I rested them against the counter while I leaned over the sink and counter to open the window. Success! Now to get down. It didn't seem as safe to hop off the chair as it had been to hop on. Not to mention it would be backwards if I did. Instead I was able to squat down and sit on the chair and get off that way.
The moment I was back on my feet, crutches in hand, I realised how happy I was and kind of proud. I almost immediately started laughing at myself though. I wasn't oblivious to how unusual it was to be excited about opening a window. I wish accomplishing this wasn't such a big deal and that it was once again just another everyday task I'd do without thinking about. In all the times I've opened that window in the past, I never would have imagined it would make me so happy to do so one day.
A couple hours later when it started to cool off outside I had to do it all over again. I wasn't quite as excited because I already knew I could do it but I was still feeling pretty good about myself when I got it closed.
Let me take a step back first to explain something. I live in a walk out basement so all the windows other than those in my living room, which is at the front, are a little smaller and higher than normal windows. So typical basement windows. The window in my kitchen is also directly above the sink so to reach it you also have the width of the counter to deal with. I'm only 5'5" so to reach and open this window I've always had to stand on a chair or kneel on the counter.
I realised a couple months ago, when I set of the smoke detector cooking something, that I couldn't reach the window to let some air in. The thought of climbing up onto a chair and balancing while I opened the window seemed like a very bad idea and a fairly impossible task at the time. As of that moment and with every burnt bagel or over cooked item since, I've been reminded that I can't open my kitchen window.
After 8 months on crutches, I'm not just better at walking around but my ability to balance standing still without the crutches has improved immensely. I've also started trusting myself and what I'm capable of doing a little more all the time. With the amazing weather we've been having and today potentially being the warmest it's been yet, I came home from physio and started by leaving my front door open to let some light and fresh air in. After a little while I decided it was so nice out that I had to open up the rest of the windows in my apartment.
I started with my bedroom. Although it was more of a challenge than it used to be, it wasn't terribly hard. I did have to stand on the corner of my bed and lean over my dresser but I got it open. Feeling pretty good about having opened that window, I walked into the kitchen. I did pause for a moment before I did anything. I'm afraid this probably sounds a little bit ridiculous but think of a time when you were about to attempt something physically difficult that seemed almost impossible, it could be anything, but that you were determined to accomplish. There was a quick pep talk going on in my head. "You can do this. You can definitely do this. Of course I can do this."
I pulled a chair out and positioned it by the counter. Then with just another second of hesitation to decide which side would be best to jump up from, I hopped up onto the chair with my left foot. I had to let go of my crutches at this point because standing on the chair they were obviously to short to be of any use. I rested them against the counter while I leaned over the sink and counter to open the window. Success! Now to get down. It didn't seem as safe to hop off the chair as it had been to hop on. Not to mention it would be backwards if I did. Instead I was able to squat down and sit on the chair and get off that way.
The moment I was back on my feet, crutches in hand, I realised how happy I was and kind of proud. I almost immediately started laughing at myself though. I wasn't oblivious to how unusual it was to be excited about opening a window. I wish accomplishing this wasn't such a big deal and that it was once again just another everyday task I'd do without thinking about. In all the times I've opened that window in the past, I never would have imagined it would make me so happy to do so one day.
A couple hours later when it started to cool off outside I had to do it all over again. I wasn't quite as excited because I already knew I could do it but I was still feeling pretty good about myself when I got it closed.
Saturday 10 March 2012
Physio: 100th Session
Thursday was my 100th physiotherapy session since being discharged from the hospital. There isn't enough time to sit hear and list everything that has changed since I started physio, what has improved, has become possible, or even too easy to do. It's amazing what the human body can relearn or find new ways of doing when the 'traditional' way is no longer an option. The difference between me 100 sessions ago and today is pretty incredible.
I've put on 20lbs since beginning physio and now have visible muscle definition. My energy level and strength have improved exponentially. I have amazing control over my right leg compared to when I started but there is still much room for improvement. Every once in a while I'll be doing an exercise or trying something new and there will be this moment of, "can you imagine doing this back at week one?" It's not even just that physically I wouldn't have been able to do the activity back when I started but it would have been hard to even imagine doing it one day in the future, at least this soon.
I still love everything about the clinic I am going to. I consider myself very lucky because after 100 sessions in just under 5 months, I could easily have been sick of the place and the people by now. I really couldn't have a more opposite feeling though. The entire staff is fantastic and really friendly. And not just those I've been treated by. The individual and collaborative knowledge at this clinic is amazing. Even with such a rare situation and unique reason for needing physiotherapy I feel very well looked after. They've created such a great space and positive atmosphere that I look forward to going even if I know I'm going to be "tortured" that day.
I look forward to my next 100 sessions and am interested to see how far I've come when I hit #200. I honestly have no guess as far as what I will be able to do come this time or what I'll still be working towards. There has been a lot of trial and error in my recover and there has never been a timeline. We'll just have to wait and see.
I've put on 20lbs since beginning physio and now have visible muscle definition. My energy level and strength have improved exponentially. I have amazing control over my right leg compared to when I started but there is still much room for improvement. Every once in a while I'll be doing an exercise or trying something new and there will be this moment of, "can you imagine doing this back at week one?" It's not even just that physically I wouldn't have been able to do the activity back when I started but it would have been hard to even imagine doing it one day in the future, at least this soon.
I still love everything about the clinic I am going to. I consider myself very lucky because after 100 sessions in just under 5 months, I could easily have been sick of the place and the people by now. I really couldn't have a more opposite feeling though. The entire staff is fantastic and really friendly. And not just those I've been treated by. The individual and collaborative knowledge at this clinic is amazing. Even with such a rare situation and unique reason for needing physiotherapy I feel very well looked after. They've created such a great space and positive atmosphere that I look forward to going even if I know I'm going to be "tortured" that day.
I look forward to my next 100 sessions and am interested to see how far I've come when I hit #200. I honestly have no guess as far as what I will be able to do come this time or what I'll still be working towards. There has been a lot of trial and error in my recover and there has never been a timeline. We'll just have to wait and see.
Wednesday 7 March 2012
Champagne Week Continued
I love celebrating my birthday. Dinner the day of is fun but I always look forward to having a big celebration with all my friends on the weekend. This year was no different. Except maybe that I was even more excited to have a big celebration. This was going to be a party to celebrate turning 27. A celebration to make up for not going out last year. And to celebrate 8 months since my surgery / being "cancer free" (although still not medically accurate to say). This would really be my first big night out since everything began a year and a half ago.
My friends had a cake for me that said "Happy More Than A Birthday" because they knew the party was for much more than just my birthday. Unfortunately I had no idea what the cake said when I first tried to read it. There were so many words to fit in. But I thought it was really sweet once I knew what it said. They also had another personalized t-shirt made for me which I LOVE! I had one of the greatest nights ever. I had tons of people come out from several different circles of friends. Some friends who I've only know for a couple months, others who I've known for many years, and a couple I hadn't actually seen in close to 5 years. Every person that came out on Saturday added to one very unforgettable night for me.
It was hard to believe I was finally out celebrating. Months earlier, back in October or November, I was making a list of "everyday life" goals with my physiotherapist. I added to that list that I'd like to be able to go out and have a couple drinks while still being able to walk with my crutches by the end of February for my birthday. It had seemed so far away at the time.
It was a bit of a challenge to move around the bar once it filled up. My friends were great when it came to leading the way and clearing a path for me so I could get through. They had to be a little more forceful with some people who just weren't paying attention but I was never bothered by it or by anyone that bumped into me. I'm sure I would have been just as oblivious to "the girl on crutches" if the roles were reversed. I always made someone come with me to the washroom because you had to go down a flight of stairs to get to them. I got an offer from a guy to carry me up the stairs the one time but obviously declined. I couldn't see that being any safer than me doing them myself. It was entertaining how many random strangers came up to me throughout the night and told me what a trooper I was or how awesome it was that I was out on crutches. None of them knew that crutches weren't anything new to me and it wasn't like I could just postpone the celebration until I was off the crutches in a couple weeks. I've accepted them as part of who I am and I'm not going to alter more things in my life than I have to.
I lasted the entire night. Right until the bar was closing. I even spent part of the night on the dance floor (dancing as best I could). I never got too tried, which I had been a little worried about. I think I was too exciting and having too much fun to think about my arms or left leg getting tired or sore. The difference one year can make is absolutely incredible. Last year I spent the night in with my close girlfriends and after a couple hours of sitting around chatting, I was absolutely exhausted. Fast forward a year and I can stay out all night even on crutches. Some people wonder how I can be so happy and positive all the time. It's because, in my books, life is really good right now.
My friends had a cake for me that said "Happy More Than A Birthday" because they knew the party was for much more than just my birthday. Unfortunately I had no idea what the cake said when I first tried to read it. There were so many words to fit in. But I thought it was really sweet once I knew what it said. They also had another personalized t-shirt made for me which I LOVE! I had one of the greatest nights ever. I had tons of people come out from several different circles of friends. Some friends who I've only know for a couple months, others who I've known for many years, and a couple I hadn't actually seen in close to 5 years. Every person that came out on Saturday added to one very unforgettable night for me.
It was hard to believe I was finally out celebrating. Months earlier, back in October or November, I was making a list of "everyday life" goals with my physiotherapist. I added to that list that I'd like to be able to go out and have a couple drinks while still being able to walk with my crutches by the end of February for my birthday. It had seemed so far away at the time.
It was a bit of a challenge to move around the bar once it filled up. My friends were great when it came to leading the way and clearing a path for me so I could get through. They had to be a little more forceful with some people who just weren't paying attention but I was never bothered by it or by anyone that bumped into me. I'm sure I would have been just as oblivious to "the girl on crutches" if the roles were reversed. I always made someone come with me to the washroom because you had to go down a flight of stairs to get to them. I got an offer from a guy to carry me up the stairs the one time but obviously declined. I couldn't see that being any safer than me doing them myself. It was entertaining how many random strangers came up to me throughout the night and told me what a trooper I was or how awesome it was that I was out on crutches. None of them knew that crutches weren't anything new to me and it wasn't like I could just postpone the celebration until I was off the crutches in a couple weeks. I've accepted them as part of who I am and I'm not going to alter more things in my life than I have to.
I lasted the entire night. Right until the bar was closing. I even spent part of the night on the dance floor (dancing as best I could). I never got too tried, which I had been a little worried about. I think I was too exciting and having too much fun to think about my arms or left leg getting tired or sore. The difference one year can make is absolutely incredible. Last year I spent the night in with my close girlfriends and after a couple hours of sitting around chatting, I was absolutely exhausted. Fast forward a year and I can stay out all night even on crutches. Some people wonder how I can be so happy and positive all the time. It's because, in my books, life is really good right now.
Champagne Week
Last Monday I turned 27 on the 27th, making it my champagne birthday. I wasn't just excited for this birthday because it's my favourite number. I was really excited for the simple fact I was able to celebrate my birthday, unlike last year. Turning 27 also seems extra special because I am now an age that has no direct association to cancer. Years from now when looking back on different times in my life, 25 will always be the year I was diagnosed with cancer. 26 is how old I was when I fought most of my battle with cancer and underwent surgery. Now 27, the focus is on physiotherapy and getting my life back to normal. A much more enjoyable chapter in my life.
Every year my girlfriends and I get together to watch the Oscars. This year it fell on the night before my birthday. They didn't just do one thing but several different things to make the night extra special for me. Not only were all the snacks a selection of all my favourite candies and treats, they also made cupcakes and dessert squares. There was champagne to celebrate it being my champagne birthday. And maybe most unexpected of all, they even invited another one of my close friends (from "outside" this group of friends), who all but one of them had not met before. I felt spoiled and unbelievable lucky to have such amazing friends and it wasn't even officially my birthday yet.
We were all heading home just minutes before midnight. At about 12:02am, February 27th, I thought to myself "this birthday is already better than last year." And I wasn't even basing that on the past 5-6 hours, just the last 2 minutes that had passed. It only continued to get better from there.
My birthday was on a Monday so naturally I had physiotherapy that day. This is where my very unhealthy day began (although it actually started with the night before). My therapist made grasshopper pie for me. Oh so sweet and oh so delicious! We all had a piece before I did any physio. As I was finishing up my session, the girls from the front desk came back and surprised me with cupcakes. Homemade yes, but if you didn't know it you'd swear they were purchased at a bakery. They were so perfect looking and tasted just as good. One of the other physiotherapist at the clinic wanted to get me a drink to go along with my cupcake. I don't drink coffee and everyone knows my love of Pepsi, so she went next door to get me a can of pop. Definite sugar high. But wait, I still had to finish my cardio. So I got back on the Elliptical with my pop. I figure you're allowed to be unhealthy on your birthday.
This was just the start of my very delicious day. After physio my friend took me out for a late lunch. I ate until I couldn't possibly eat another bite. She dropped me off on her way back to work and I was home for about an hour. At which point I headed back out to meet up with two different friends for dinner. Sitting on the streetcar on my way to meet them I just kept thinking, "oh my gosh, I'm so full." I already knew what I would order when I got there. I had picked the restaurant based partially on the specific meal I wanted to eat that night. The good thing about this was I had picked something completely different for lunch. Surprisingly, when our meals came I ate most of mine without a second thought.
Back at home I made myself comfy on the couch and turned on the TV. I was way too full to attempt anything else. Or even move. Not long after arriving home I got a call from my friend who had already taken me out for lunch. She was parked outside. The "crazy" girl had something else for me for my birthday that she'd forgotten to give me earlier. She ran it in because I'm obviously terrible at carrying things and not the fastest when it comes to running out to meet someone. She had to take off so I opened the present after she left. Nightmare and wish come true all at the same time. Four different types of cookies. I resisted opening any of them that night as there was no possible way I could fit even one bite of a cookie into my stomach without severe discomfort. It didn't take me long to break into a bag the next day though. I've yet to finish them all. It doesn't help that I received homemade cookies in the mail from another friend two days later too.
I think my birthday can be summed up as the day of food. I think everyone is in on the plan to fatten me up.
Every year my girlfriends and I get together to watch the Oscars. This year it fell on the night before my birthday. They didn't just do one thing but several different things to make the night extra special for me. Not only were all the snacks a selection of all my favourite candies and treats, they also made cupcakes and dessert squares. There was champagne to celebrate it being my champagne birthday. And maybe most unexpected of all, they even invited another one of my close friends (from "outside" this group of friends), who all but one of them had not met before. I felt spoiled and unbelievable lucky to have such amazing friends and it wasn't even officially my birthday yet.
We were all heading home just minutes before midnight. At about 12:02am, February 27th, I thought to myself "this birthday is already better than last year." And I wasn't even basing that on the past 5-6 hours, just the last 2 minutes that had passed. It only continued to get better from there.
My birthday was on a Monday so naturally I had physiotherapy that day. This is where my very unhealthy day began (although it actually started with the night before). My therapist made grasshopper pie for me. Oh so sweet and oh so delicious! We all had a piece before I did any physio. As I was finishing up my session, the girls from the front desk came back and surprised me with cupcakes. Homemade yes, but if you didn't know it you'd swear they were purchased at a bakery. They were so perfect looking and tasted just as good. One of the other physiotherapist at the clinic wanted to get me a drink to go along with my cupcake. I don't drink coffee and everyone knows my love of Pepsi, so she went next door to get me a can of pop. Definite sugar high. But wait, I still had to finish my cardio. So I got back on the Elliptical with my pop. I figure you're allowed to be unhealthy on your birthday.
This was just the start of my very delicious day. After physio my friend took me out for a late lunch. I ate until I couldn't possibly eat another bite. She dropped me off on her way back to work and I was home for about an hour. At which point I headed back out to meet up with two different friends for dinner. Sitting on the streetcar on my way to meet them I just kept thinking, "oh my gosh, I'm so full." I already knew what I would order when I got there. I had picked the restaurant based partially on the specific meal I wanted to eat that night. The good thing about this was I had picked something completely different for lunch. Surprisingly, when our meals came I ate most of mine without a second thought.
Back at home I made myself comfy on the couch and turned on the TV. I was way too full to attempt anything else. Or even move. Not long after arriving home I got a call from my friend who had already taken me out for lunch. She was parked outside. The "crazy" girl had something else for me for my birthday that she'd forgotten to give me earlier. She ran it in because I'm obviously terrible at carrying things and not the fastest when it comes to running out to meet someone. She had to take off so I opened the present after she left. Nightmare and wish come true all at the same time. Four different types of cookies. I resisted opening any of them that night as there was no possible way I could fit even one bite of a cookie into my stomach without severe discomfort. It didn't take me long to break into a bag the next day though. I've yet to finish them all. It doesn't help that I received homemade cookies in the mail from another friend two days later too.
I think my birthday can be summed up as the day of food. I think everyone is in on the plan to fatten me up.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)