My Achilles Tendon – “You’re Healed!” · 20 February 2009
On my latest trip to the doctor, he said, “You’re healed!” Actually, the punctuation was probably a period and there was not much drama to it all. He did not put his hand on my head and proclaim to all that I had miraculously been healed. But in some ways, I had been miraculously healed. A wonderful surgeon had used his God-given talents to help put Humpty Dumpty back together again.
As much as I would have loved to have been healed in a truly miraculous way, I know that I do not need a sign to know that God has my best interests at heart. I know that I had a great surgeon who has helped the healing process. And I have had great caregivers during surgery and when I got home. I am not quite ready to run up and down the basketball court again, but I do not have a cast on my leg and I am able to move my foot around.
Even though I am not quite ready to run around like I used to do, I know that I am truly healed. I can move my foot around with my calf muscle like I am supposed to be able to do. I can rotate my foot and even jiggle my foot as it is apt to do when I am restless. I may not quite have the complete range of motion yet, but I can move it. Which is more than I could do a month ago when I injured myself.
I have this urge to put all my weight on my injured leg and just go about business like nothing happened. But I am listening to the doctor and waiting for the prescribed time to start the transition away from crutches.
(By the way, I would not recommend crutches to anybody who does not need them. Crutches are fine when you are injured but I would not wish them on anybody. And I certainly wonder what I was thinking when I tried to use my friend’s crutches as a kid. Besides, crutches make you seem twice as wide as normal, they are noisy, and they are hard on the rest of your body. Aside from that, crutches are a great appliance to help those with hurt legs.)
The next time I go to the doctor, I am supposed to be walking with no crutches. I gather from others who have gone through the same process, that I am about to go through the difficult part where there is real pain. Pain is apparently spelled PHYSICAL THERAPY. I have only heard stories but I imagine the tortured screams of those being stretched on a rack as coming close to what will come from my mouth as the physical therapist inflicts pain on my tight tendon and somewhat atrophied muscles. I do not consider myself brave or strong when it comes to pain. And I believe that those who go into physical therapy as a profession must be descendants of those masters of torture from the middle ages. Okay. That is probably a slight exaggeration. But I do know that they will bend and twist my body to make me better. (I can even hear them laughing that maniacal laugh of the torturers from the movies.)
I know that I am already healed. I know that the doctors and nurses and technicians in the operating room helped my body to be whole again. I know that they and the other caregivers in my life have helped me be functional again. And I know that there is pain coming in the form of physical therapy. I may be healed but the process of becoming completely whole again is far from over. I am ready for the challenge. I am ready because I know that I am healed. Bring on the pain. Humpty Dumpty is healed!
© 2009 Michael T. Miyoshi
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