You Can't Win If You Don't Play

Sunrise over Peddocks Island

I’ve been feeling tremendously disheartened about my rehab progress (or the lack thereof) lately. This past week was exceptionally bad. I ended up doing nothing or close to nada, on three out of the past seven days. Even on my paltry four active days, I only managed to walk a measly .65 of a mile. At most.

My physical therapist has been adding new, more challenging exercises and praising my improved balance and abilities. That’s great, huh? Sure but it’s costing me on the ambulation front. Also, back pain has come back on stage.

I’m currently nowhere near my pre-PT peak of close to a mile and a half (with walker) per day. Yes, the bazillion new balance bits (generally done every other day) might account for the distance drop but I can’t see how. I mean, these added routines aren’t on par with hiking up Mount Washington (which I would never do because—c’mon, hiking is a total drag!) or running a few miles (and fuck that running shit. I’d be lucky as all hell to make it three blocks and I’d feel pretty proud of myself at that. Also, the olives fall out of my martini when I run).

How can these balance exercises be wasting me so much? On top of wearing me right the fuck out, some of the new movements have reignited pain that I haven’t experienced in close to six months. Fer fuck’s sake, on the old art pain scale (see below) I’ve hit a rock solid Courbet at least twice in the past week and spent too damn much time in Van Gogh and Picasso Lands as well. This blows mondo bantha chunks.

I get it though—I really do. This recovery/rehab shit is a long series of waves. There are crests, troughs and everything in between. Despite my efforts, I’m in a low spot right now. What I need to do is evaluate my routines, add and subtract actions/movements as needed, take the occasional day off and STOP beating myself up for not being able to walk unassisted yet.

What does this come down to? Amongst other things, I’m bored. All I seem to do is exercise, recover from exercising and repeat ad infinitum. I need to overcome my fear of falling, get out of the house and do something different.

Next weekend is the Neck’s Chowdafest. I want to go but the event’s happening in the Maritime Center’s parking lot which is set on a hill. It’s not a big-ass hill BUT the incline is steep enough to make me leery. Also, there will be people there—possibly tons of ‘em //shudder//—all potentially toting fresh cases of COVID courtesy of their spawn’s return to school.

I believe I have to try though. Ya know, walk the third of a mile there, check out the crowds, see if there’s anyplace to sit, people-watch, rest, slurp chowda and then hobble back home.

Like we used to call, while working the games back in my carny days, you can’t win if you don’t play.