Oh pain, you old friend. Can’t say I’m terribly pleased to see you again.
Everything hurts. A constellation of pain is brewing in my leg. Shooting pain up the bone and in the hip with each step or weight transfer. Muscles screaming in fatigue after being awoken from their 25 year slumber.
The last few days had lured me into a false sense of security but this morning I am reminded like a fist to the face that this learning to walk business is rather painful after all.
My blood pressure was quite low this morning and I am feeling quite light headed and dizzy as I move through my exercises at the bar. The pain I can put up with, just don’t faint. Chris would never let me hear the end of it and my gym privileges would be yanked from beneath me before I could even begin to protest.
Chris is not here to force me to rest and before I know it I realize I have been on the leg for almost an hour. I might have slightly overdone it.
The exercises on the bed seem to be getting worse in terms of pain. Movement wise there is a slight improvement but they have never hurt so much as they do this morning.
Doing the hip abductors is pushing me to an eight on the pain scale. With each lowering of the leg I get a bonus shot of pain up the back of my leg and then severe cramping like a gorilla is gripping onto my leg and twisting.
The leg raises on my stomach aren’t much better. I am almost in tears as I push through one last rep. For the first time since I have been here I can’t wait to get out of the gym and back to my room where I can take the leg off.
It takes all of my might to put it back on and return for my second session. But no one said this was going to be easy right? It doesn’t get easier, you just get better.
One of the weekend physios has Ali and myself do some work in his private practice where I get a go on the Pilates reformer machine. It’s a nice change of routine and I am pleased at my range of movement with the leg on. I find I can lift it out in front of me and move it in and out as I work through the core exercises. I’ll be back at Body Balance in no time.
Next up he wants me to try to do some balancing and weight shifting on the wobble board. I eye it suspiciously. Chris had instructed me not to use this as he was worried about the potential twisting movement on my bone at this stage. I don’t want to be in trouble with him. He is the key to the cross-trainer after all.
I’m going alright until I slip slightly and it becomes apparent why Chris didn’t want me doing this. The slight twist on the leg sends a sharp stab of pain rocketing up my leg. Right, maybe best not to try that again.
He’s also keen to try some work on the swiss ball where I lay on my stomach and raise alternate arms and legs. Ordinarily this is an exercise I would have no problem with and is a regular part of Body Balance. But today I am hesitant. I’m not even sure how to bend down and climb on the swiss ball with this leg. I am clumsy and cumbersome in this new body right now and like a pregnant woman attempting to lower myself to the ground I am about as graceful as a hippo attempting ballet. I’m also wary of falling off. Ali has just completed a set and eggs me on telling me not to be a wuss and that I wouldn’t have far to fall if Is did.
It’s not the falling, nor the distance that worries me. With my old leg I fell plenty of times and wasn’t precious in the slightest but right now I am worried about the current limited control I have of my leg and I am concerned about twisting and damaging the bone. Oh, and the $87 000 metal rod inserted into my leg. It is an expensive piece of equipment to simply go throwing about and breaking. I wonder again if perhaps I need to insure it like Blake Lively insures her hair.
But both the physio and Ali won’t take no for an answer. Luckily I sail through the exercises without damaging anything which gives me a boost of confidence although I really don’t want to do it again. I’m unsure whether to tell Chris about the whole session, as I don’t think he will be entirely pleased. Mum certainly wasn’t when I told her about it. Although right now I think she would prefer if I were permanently bundled up in cotton wool.
By the end of the day I am exhausted. I don’t even finish my usual ab and core exercises, the first time in five months.
It might not have been the best idea but I attempt one more set of the exercises on the bed at night. My whole leg is screaming out in pain like a tortured prisoner. But the adage is no pain, no gain and I want that gain more than anything. These muscles need to get strong and fast. I have only a limited time in here and I need to make as much progress while I am here as I can. I need to graduate to P plates before I walk out that door.
The next day I am still in a lot of pain. I’m hoping it’s only because I have finally woken those dormant muscles up and they are trying to rebel and kick up a fuss so I will let them go back to their lazy ways. Sorry muscles there is no chance of that happening, better get used to it.
I can notice a slight improvement in the range of movement and am able to lift my leg up for core work which gives me a small thrill. Getting there. But almost as a punishment for being too bold, I attempt to roll over and do a plank and I twist slightly funny with the leg and I am electrocuted with a jolt of pain. I am temporarily unable to move, and I just hope I don’t pass out. It is a similar sensation to when I dislocated my knee. I didn’t even get to attempt the plank but just thinking about doing it has proven dangerous.
I fumble furiously with the allen key eager to get the leg off. I throw it on the floor almost in disgust and glare at it for a moment. I feel like it has betrayed me. That’s right, you sit it in the corner leg, right now I don’t want to talk to you.