Exactly after one month of PT rehab, I can now drive my old, reliable Revo--thanks to my young, equally reliable therapist, Mark.
My cast was removed on Ate Ella's 64th birthday, Sept. 23. I expected that things will return to normal as soon as I let go of this green fiberglass that kept me close company for six loooong weeks.
Like an innocent child eagerly anticipating her dream toy, I excitedly waited for that magical moment when I thought life would be the same for me again.
But just like my love life, things didn't turn out the way I planned them to be.
As soon as Dr. Sevilla cut my cast to free my arm, he blurted out these words which caused me to scream in horror:
He told me: "Di ko pala nasabi sa iyo. Pagkatanggal ng cast, mas masakit pa kaysa bone fracture."
I wanted to believe my orthopedic surgeon was only joking.
I prayed and wished that he was, but he wasn't.
And so, instead of a "back to normal" life that I imagined, a life of pain and misery and agony and suffering began.
(buti na lang di nakasali face ko sa picture . . . nakangiwi kasi plus may kasama pang luha at sipon hah hah . . .)
There are no words in any dictionary that could aptly describe the pain I feel every time my wrist is mercilessly twisted, my stubborn hand fiercely straightened and each of my hardened fingers stretched beyond their limits.
I even told my therapist that when I die, I'll probably go straight to heaven for I've gone through hell already. Mark was quick to reply: "Eh Tita, di naman po ako demonyo" (heh heh . . .)
When my PT rehab started, I could only move my hand 5-10 degrees. I couldn't even flex my fingers. The pain lingered all day long that sleeping was an ordeal.
Following the advices of my Rehab Doctor and therapist, I launched my own therapy program at home in the hope of speeding up the whole recovery process.
Hot pack was my constant companion. So with the lovable squeeze ball. Later on, the powerful laundry clip (I try to close it with my thumb and 1 finger), the water bottle as weight for wrist exercises, door knob rotation from left to right and vice versa, and stretching between fingers using thick rubber band.
All these exercises were extremely painful at first but slowly mellowed down as time went by.
I'm still in rehab.
My best friend Pain hasn't abandon me yet.
But I'm happy.
I'm happy because I can now drive and . . . I AM NOW COACHING MARK TO RUN HIS FIRST 5K RACE.
Thank you, Mark.
When my PT rehab started, I could only move my hand 5-10 degrees. I couldn't even flex my fingers. The pain lingered all day long that sleeping was an ordeal.
Following the advices of my Rehab Doctor and therapist, I launched my own therapy program at home in the hope of speeding up the whole recovery process.
Hot pack was my constant companion. So with the lovable squeeze ball. Later on, the powerful laundry clip (I try to close it with my thumb and 1 finger), the water bottle as weight for wrist exercises, door knob rotation from left to right and vice versa, and stretching between fingers using thick rubber band.
All these exercises were extremely painful at first but slowly mellowed down as time went by.
I'm still in rehab.
My best friend Pain hasn't abandon me yet.
But I'm happy.
I'm happy because I can now drive and . . . I AM NOW COACHING MARK TO RUN HIS FIRST 5K RACE.
Thank you, Mark.
I'm sorry I wanted to punch and kick you during our therapy sessions.
Thank God for therapists like you!
