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Progress!
Monday was a busy day. After stabilization, possibly even improvement, of my physical comfort by Sunday, I was hopeful of being able to ride the flat three miles to the library for meeting Matt a little closer and joining his commute part way for a couple medical appointments in Northampton. Matt has been a huge help shuttling my partly broken body, with the bonus that his drive to work passes both my primary doctor's medical office and then, a few miles later, the hospital. The biggest drive out of the way is my house, one town away in the wrong direction, so I was happy to cut that a little, not that he ever complained. Thank you Matt!
On waking, my body was feeling pretty OK, so I left super early to avoid any reason to push, trying to make the ride more therapy than added wear and tear. I still arrived at the library ten minutes early, which meant there was plenty of time to stretch my piriformis and take the front wheel off my bike. Matt has also been game to give my bike a ride as well, stuffing it just perfectly in the back seat, which was a huge help Monday as riding the non busable sections of connecting my appointments was far easier on my body than walking. Ain't bikes grand?
Matt arrives at work at 8 and my first appointment, with a spine specialist, wasn't until 11, so I had plenty of time sit in the grass with a tree for a backrest, stretch, work a nifty crytic crossword with an bird theme, read, and even eventually remember in time to collect the ankle MRI report from my primary doctor's office in another building in the same complex. I even had time to sit and rest my ornery hip a fews times on the walk, with a cane, over to that building, and once, a kind person came out of the medical office to make sure I was okay. Thank you!
Eleven o'clock and I both arrived at the spine doctor. Then 11:10, then 11:15 came, and I was still sitting in the waiting room, in a borrowed building wheelchair, having learned the benefits of reducing load on my leg the best I can. Then I learned why the delay. Have you ever had an older doctor, past the age when many retire, who seems to stay in it for love of the practice, and the chance to talk with people about it? I think that might be a description of Dr Norris. Less than twenty minutes late, I wheeled into meet him and over the next hour and fifteen minutes I learned a lot!
It's rare these days to find a doctor, especially within the organized medical system of a hospital, who has found a way to spend that much time with a patient. I'm guessing Dr Norris doesn't leave work at quitting time, and I can see why good people I trust referred me to him. Best of all, I now have a treatment plan of action, starting with a cortisone injection into damaged discs in my lumber next week. This treatment doesn't work for everyone, but my three and a half year older sister, who shares much genetic material with me, was suffering similar pain in her right arm, and the shot she received five months ago has worked wonders for her.
Now a tic or twelve past noon, I had just shy of two hours to work my way uptown to a manual therapy appointment with Laurel Meyers. I'll admit, there are many nuances to this form of physical therapy that I don't know, but it came recommended by my friend Adele, whom I was able to meet for quick snacks alongside the recreation path on the way there after a bus shuttled me and my bike from the medical offices, through an ugly route ten and interstate ninety-one interchange, and then a couple hundred yards shy of the trail. Yes, my bike and I had a bad experience with the PVTA last fall, but I'm still glad it exists.
Manual therapy, I'd only experienced working with Laurel, whom I'd cheered during the Seven Sisters race this year without even recognizing her, a couple times, and while I had nothing bad to say, I wasn't sure my personal body responded as much to that form of treatment as craniosacral therapy. Just like cortisone shots, I suspect every body responds differently. Then Monday happened. At the end of my visit with Dr Norris, he'd put me through an assisted leg lift for diagnosis. It ended quickly, although not quickly enough, because it hurt like HECK and I was still feeling less than okay when I landed at Laurel's.
The treatment felt good, especially the release of tension in my psoas, which had been so tight that any recent attempts at even gentle stretching would send pain down my leg. Great! Then we ended with a few last movements and evaluations with me in a standing position. That felt less good. Less good enough that before leaving the building I was once more stretching my piriformis and groin in the waiting room to help settle discomfort and numbness in my legs. Happily, my bike was waiting outside, and as usual, a gentle turning of my legs with minimal load helped, so after meeting Matt for our return trip east, I even had him drop me off five miles from home for some more gentle spinning, mostly downhill.
Hmm, like craniosacral treatment, I'd learned that these less than standard therapies can take time for the body to integrate and make positive. I didn't sleep particularly well that night, and Tuesday I woke in pain. Monday had been a busy day with a bit of bustling which can make my leg feel less good, but I was starting to wonder if the manual therapy wasn't just less amazingly effective as craniosacral for this body of mine, if it had hurt me. Ouch!
Time, integration, patience, the sun rose and by early afternoon, I realized I'd missed my second NSAID dose by two hours. I prophylactically took a single 200mg ibuprofen and decided to ride the three miles to the library for more books and videos to help distract me from my usual inclination to do too much. Back home, I even headed, gently, down to the brook behind house with a walking stick, and sat up to my chin for any DIY hydrotherapy the cool, but not cold, water could afford. It did feel good, and I do feel more optimistic, looking forward to to a positive outcome from next Thursday's treatment, just over a week away!
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