Physical therapy Tuesday morning had a special surprise just for lil ol' me. Along with badass looking surgical scars I have also accrued scar tissue. The PT guys find scar tissue to be a very affront against their delicate nature. "We need to get rid of it" "you really need to start massaging the scar tissue and make it go away". I am great at following directions and began working on my scar tissue. The PT guys thought I was doing a lousy job so they happily demonstrated how this tissue should be handled. Kevin and his meat hook sized hands brought out my inner yogi as I tried not to scream in pain. Apparently scar tissue is like a bully and only responds to force, a lot of force. He worked on my knee for about ten minutes and attacked every scar. I stared at the wall and breathed in deeply while thinking of chocolate. Chocolate can help in almost any situation. I survived the scar tissue ordeal with a smile on my face and didn't knock anyone out. Go me!
Physical therapy isn't all unicorns and rainbows, unfortunately it is a painful process that takes old fashioned hard work. This being my second transplant means I have a ton riding on this newly acquired ligament. Even though this recovery has been much better than the first go around I am anxious that my darling Hertha will fail too. Ok, I have had my pity party and I am done now. To chase the blues away I might roast brussel sprouts and bacon, just to hear Steven whine. It really is the little things in life.
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| This depiction is legit.
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