PT, day 3

Physical Therapy is much better after the initial horror. I think they purposefully injure you the first day so you don't whine so much the rest of the time.
There has been no more excruciating pain, and no more crying. I've been working on some movements I've done in PT in the past, like for my hips (which are pathetic and enjoy popping out of their socket whenever possible) and some I haven't done like for my toes.
I've been spending about and hour and a half there each time now and that is a very long time. It includes the heat application at the beginning (which is awesome until it gets too hot!) and then the ice at the end (which is terrible the entire time). I don't like being cold. I also don't like my fat ankle, however, so I have to balance.
Kate (No longer being referred to as Helga, partially because she's actually very nice and partially because she is now privy to the blog) does some of the motions I've been practicing on my own. She also squeezes the ankle in ways that don't hurt and she claims have some sort of stretching benefit (if only all exercise required no work on my part!). Then I do hip movements, which are interjected with me sitting to give my right leg a break. All of this is totally bearable.
Then there are "toe teasers." A small basket of tiny rubber tubes of various diameters is dumped on the floor and I am tasked with picking each one up with my toes and returning them to the little basket. The first time I did this I felt like I was training to be a circus monkey and I got so frustrated I pictured myself getting up, overturning a table out of sheer rage, and stomping out. Since I then decided that would make me look MORE like a circus animal and, also, I cannot stomp, I just kept at it. The thing is, I have opposable thumbs. What is the point of a severe evolutionary asset if you just pick stuff up with your feet?? I cannot scrunch my toes the necessary tightness for such a task. At first I was really upset that I had lost the ability to stealthily pick up tiny things with my toes. Then I realized something- I can't scrunch my right toes either!! In fact, when I clench my right toes the last two tiny ones don't move at all! My lack of ability to scrunch toes and pick up stupid shit with them is not due to my ankle injury, it's due to my personal and permanent handicap! Clearly, I should keep the handicap placard I have in my car forever.

Anywhoo... I plan to photograph my lovely scars on a weekly basis, so the next installment of those is coming up soon. I'm hoping to have my ankle movements measured again so I can see the progress or lack thereof. Next week I see the doctor on Tuesday and the screw comes out on Friday. The end.