There's Something Crooked About This Whole Thing

I've had several visits with the physical therapist already. The first visit involved an assessment of my condition. The therapist took measurements of every conceivable leg position possible that didn't violate any of my orthopedist's restrictions. As she took the measurements on the right, surgerized side, she took corresponding measurements on the "normal" side. The results were startling for me. She could tell I was both interested then surprised so she was kind enough to talk me through the process, explaining the what and why of the numbers. In a nutshell, I've been compensating for the right hip for so long that I'm almost the hunch back of Notre Dame, without the cool digs, french flair for food, and the view of Paris.

I'm basically twisted, physically. I've been walking incorrectly, standing crooked, and bending asymmetrically. I want to fix it all right now but, guess what, my freaking hip hurts. So I move like a spaz so it doesn't hurt even more than usual which is all the time, with or without medications. I have been compensating for this hip for 17 plus years. How do you right that wrong?

Will it take another 17 years to fix it? By then I'll be bent over and crippled with years and then being crooked like I am now will be the least of my worries.

My second appointment included my walking with and without my cane. All the while, the therapist was commenting on how I moved, correcting this and suggesting that. As he was giving me hints on how to hold my hips, I flashed on that TV reality show, Make Me A Supermodel. There's no way I can do that attitude, show off the designer clothes, own the runway and still keep my balance. Well maybe the attitude, after all lots of the models feign a pained indifference to the whole thing. I've got that pained look down pat.

Now I'm doing a series of exercises to get my muscle strength back and stretch the ligaments and tendons. Apparently, without my being aware, they've been contracting and shrinking like slug in salt water all this time. Yes, it hurts. Yes, the therapists ask if it does but offer no solutions or relief from the pain. Yes, I still do it. Yes, I'm paying for this. Yes, I know it makes no sense. But No, I won't quit now, not if there is a chance that I can walk among the normal, normally. That may be a neat trick since I'm not sure I was doing that even before all the surgeries.