Physical Therapy and Anxiety

 On Friday I had my second day of physical therapy, and the first that was actually physical. I realized how little I knew what to expect. I saw the large gym-like room beyond the normal doctor's office exam rooms, but I didn't consider what that would mean. I also didn't realize that physical therapy would be a weekly thing for me. After all, I wasn't injured!

So I had two appointments last week. Nothing for this week yet; appointments are tight. I was called about an opening on Monday--so Tuesday, Friday, and then Monday. I turned it down, primarily because I do in fact have something that I need to get done for work. But it also seemed very soon to have another. How does Friday to Monday count as "weekly"? I also cancelled two other appointments for this coming week--a podiatry appointment for my recurring ankle pain, and a well visit I had made for my youngest. I am simply not comfortable going to the doctor's office (which is part of a hospital complex) so often. As it is, I have allergy symptoms (well, I think and hope they are allergy symptoms!) that are making we anxious. They are not uncommon symptoms, even for me, but while last year they could be dismissed as not Covid--particularly since I hadn't been anywhere in the outside world--this year, the symptoms of Covid are different because of the Delta variant, and the rationale that symptoms would be worse if it was Covid is also not one that I can fall back on, because I'm vaccinated. So: anxiety.

Where have I been lately, since I've been "out in the world," you ask? Nowhere much. Work: I'm only on site about 20 hours a week. Grocery stores: sparingly. Most of the time, we use curbside. I love knowing that I have those hours that I would otherwise be spending in stores back in my life. And doctor's appointments. And that's it. My children are enrolled in a virtual school, which is working out very well, and they don't have to deal with all of the incredible stupidity that accompanies in-person school or the additional stupidity of mask controversy and confrontation. My husband is working full-time on site, but the staff is still being cautious and the number of patrons is limited. Literally, the riskiest thing I do is go to the doctor, where sick people go.

So PT day 2: I was actually engaged in therapy. First, I was put onto a very cool recumbent elliptical machine. I want one. Then I was moved to a padded table for some exercises and some continued evaluation. One of the things that came to light is that my left hip was an inch or so lower than my right. So the therapist pulled the right leg so that the hips were even. For the rest of the day, I admit that I felt a bit uneven. Kind of like this:

I emerged from the appointment with some new exercises to do in addition to the reverse clamshell and pelvic tilt from the first appointment. These was a hip abduction--basically, a very familiar sidelying leg-lift--and two that were less familiar, a sidelying leg lift that is done from an L-shaped angle. Literally the only image I can find of this is a still from Buns of Steel, on this blog. The other is what I like to think of as a "reverse figure-4." It's the opposite of what I am usually told to do in videos and classes--to cross one ankle over the other leg and push down. This is a "piriformis stretch modified 3," and I need to cross one ankle over the other leg and pull forward. A very different sensation!

In addition to the revelation that my hips were uneven, it was a revelation to me that engaging your core muscles doesn't always mean engaging them inward, which is what pilates teaches: as if your bellybutton is being pulled from behind you by a string. Instead, I was told to laugh--which engages the muscles outward--and keep that engagement. This is more like what I've found happens during weightlifting, for example, during a deadlift.

And then I learned that my hip doesn't have to pop! When I mention my popping hips to doctors, the response is something like "Yeah, that can happen." The impression I have been given is that this disconcerting feeling is simply in the range of normal, probably (by implication) because of my age, or just because that's how some people are made. The physical therapist, on the other hand, is actively trying to minimize or eliminate the pop that occurs when I raise and lower my leg, or when I try rowing. And this, to me, is absolutely amazing. If we could work on the crunching feeling in my back, I would be most grateful!

But I'm concerned about going back. As I mentioned earlier, the appointments are frequent. We're still in a pandemic, and local numbers are going up every week--particularly with the return of college students. The physical therapy room is large, but there were at least 5-6 other patients, and 3-4 physical therapists. We were all masked, but my therapist was literally inches from me. And this, right now, doesn't quite feel okay. I have put in an email to my primary physical therapist; hopefully she will have some reassurances. Until then,

Cheers!