My PT (physical therapist) gave me my dismissal notice today! Which for normal people would be no big deal but for dramatic Dora over here they were harsh words to bear. Apparently, there have been some changes to Medicare. There is now a cap to the number of visits I can have. I’ve mentioned before how much I enjoy physical therapy. So this hit me hard. My word, there is an entire category dedicated to physical therapy on this website! I’m really about to have a little breakdown.
Well we decided together that August 15th would be my last day. My pride wouldn’t let me cry in front of my therapist, but I sure felt like sobbing. It felt like a boyfriend was dumping me. I guess I’ve grown fond of my time there. I mean I consider it an outing. I buy cute clothes just to go there. Don’t get me wrong I generally get out a bit more than some of my fellow MSers, so I really shouldn’t complain. Plus, this just means I have time to return to water aerobics.
I guess I got kind of attached to the friendly people at PT. But as we know change is always just around the corner. To be honest, therapy was beginning to get a little harder for me. It was especially difficult to see how I wasn’t improving. For example, things I could do in the beginning of therapy I can no longer do, like walk with a cane. For goodness sake, I can barely use my trusty walker. Yep, it’s mostly my scooter these days. Quite frankly, that kind of scares me. At 37 years-old, it makes me wonder, “What will my 40’s look like?”
But then again I guess even abled-bodied folk wonder about things of this sort as well. Nobody knows what the future may bring. There’s really not much I can do about it anyway. Plus, all of my spiritual/health gurus say worrying about tomorrow doesn’t help.
But damn, can I at least get a little preview?