7/02/07 – Drop . . Your . . Sword

So this morning I headed back to the Dr for my follow up appointment. This time I arrived via coche de Bigwood and after a brief stay in the waiting room I was back in the exam room sitting on one of those crinkly paper sheets staring at the ankle anatomy picture on the wall wondering which of those tendons was causing me such grief.

I will spare you the mostly boring mundane details of exam and just cut right to the chase:

a. Surgery will not be necessary (rickety tickety tack)

b. I am cleared for PT (ready, now, immediately)

c. I can 86 the boot and the crutches (good b/c it was starting to be stinky)

d. I have a new much smaller brace that will fit in a shoe (as well as under pants so I can start dressing like a normal person again)

e. I can begin biking in the brace w/ a nice jog in my not too distant future (Wa Hoo)

And all of this is because he said that I (and this is a direct quote) “did everything perfect these past two weeks” Then he tossed me up on his shoulders and paraded me around the office heralding me as the most disciplined, committed, tough healer he’s ever known. A medical marvel if you will ^{kb ; )}. Ok so maybe that last part didn’t really happen but he really did tell me that I (again, this is a direct quote) “did everything perfect these past two weeks” I am pretty sure I can count on one finger how many times anyone has ever said that to me in regards to doing what I am told. I’m growing, look at me go. Yea really much of that credit belongs to you all but hey, let me bask for un momento por favor.

I told him that I had stayed off it as much as possible (again, no small thanks to you all) and he smiled and nodded. I told him that had done my towel curls and alphabet exercises a few times a day and he smiled bigger and said ‘it shows’. Then I said “and I have been doing ice buckets 2-3 times a day” and he shook his head chuckled and said “Of course you have.” And then he said “Uh yeah, is there anyone who will go with you when you bike to make sure it doesn’t turn into century ride? And someone who will jog with you to make sure you don’t decide a 10k is what I meant by easy jog?” Ahh to know me is to love me.

So this is a great day, full of great news and as always great comedy. . .as he was giving me the list of activities I am allowed to do he kept telling me that I should push to the pain. Ditch the crutches and begin walking in the brace but only to the pain. I can bike but only to the pain. I can begin jogging but just to the pain. My threshold for all activities is . . . to the pain. Now, I am already about to burst with giddiness because, well lets review I “did everything perfect these past two weeks.” Not to mention that biking is in my immediate (alright near) future so, I could barely contain myself from saying:

Prince Humperdinck: First things first, to the death.
Westley: No. To the pain.
Prince Humperdinck: I don't think I'm quite familiar with that phrase.
Westley: I'll explain and I'll use small words so that you'll be sure to understand, you warthog faced buffoon.
Prince Humperdinck: That may be the first time in my life a man has dared insult me.
Westley: It won't be the last. To the pain means the first thing you will lose will be your feet below the ankles. Then your hands at the wrists. Next your nose.
Prince Humperdinck: And then my tongue I suppose, I killed you too quickly the last time. A mistake I don't mean to duplicate tonight.
Westley: I wasn't finished. The next thing you will lose will be your left eye followed by your right.
Prince Humperdinck: And then my ears, I understand let's get on with it.
Westley: WRONG. Your ears you keep and I'll tell you why. So that every shriek of every child at seeing your hideousness will be yours to cherish. Every babe that weeps at your approach, every woman who cries out, "Dear God! What is that thing," will echo in your perfect ears. That is what to the pain means. It means I leave you in anguish, wallowing in freakish misery forever.
Prince Humperdinck: I think your bluffing.
Westley: It's possible, Pig, I might be bluffing. It's conceivable, you miserable, vomitous mass, that I'm only lying here because I lack the strength to stand. But, then again... perhaps I have the strength after all.
[slowly rises and points sword directly at the prince]
Westley: DROP... YOUR... SWORD!

I didn’t rush the miracle man, I was still (at least mostly and certainly still for me) and I got my miracle. So who wants to go on a bike ride?

Today’s miracle is brought to you by the letter F for friends (my friends, the best ones in the world) and the numbers 46:10.