It's something that I get that immediate, physical evidence that I'm progressing. Everyday I go, I'm breaking another personal best. The first week, I went from being able to bend 70 degrees to this week, where I hit 108 degrees. I was at +4 degrees as far as straightening, I'm now able to get to 0 degrees. Only was able to do a half crank on the bike before, today I was able to do full rotations.
I go to the doctor on Thursday and I'm hoping he tells me I can start walking.
The entertaining part of physical therapy is the other people that go to it, cause they are crazy.
1. Gangster - A few times, there's this straight up prison gangster that wears like an Oakland Raiders jersey and baggy jeans to come to therapy. He did something to his back, so they have him doing a lot of arms. If the therapist says, let's do 5 lbs, he grabs the 10 pounder. He works out like he's in a prison yard.
2. The starer - It's hard not to start staring at something when you're doing repetitive exercises, but I found this creepster sitting directly across from me, his eyes met mine. He stared at me for a good 10 minutes while he rolled stress balls in his hands like some sort of Bond villain.
3. The Hipster - This guy is wearing his thick Weezer glasses, red blue jeans that are three sizes too small, and chucks on his feet. He's the skinniest guy in the world and they had him doing push-ups. I've never seen a hipster workout before.
4. The Gruff Old Man - Today, there was one of those old men that hates the world. The guy that yells at you for hitting your baseball in his yard. He spent the entire hour we were near each other complaining about how sensitive he is, telling the therapists what exercises he should be doing, and how everything causes cancer. The stretches I was doing... spread cancer. The stimulation machine... spread cancer. The lights in the building... create cancer. The therapist gave up trying to contradict the guy after about 15 minutes.