At physical therapy today I was only able to flex my knee to about 90 degrees. I guess it's supposed to be flexing more so Richard the therapist called my doctor. He asked if he could "be agressive". The doctor said that would be fine and that he expects to hear me screaming all the way in his Manhattan office from Booklyn. Great.
And it gets better. On my way out, Richard said that I should probably take some pain medication before I come to my next seesion. Oh my God. I could hardly walk this afternoon. What's Thursday going to hold in store for me? The good news is that by the end of the session "we" flexed my knee to 108.
When I go in for PT there is always at least one elderly person doing stuff similar to what I'm doing. For instance, the gentleman I saw today was doing the side steps I did last week. He said he is rehabbing from a cyst in his brain that had to be removed. He said one day he woke up and couldn't walk. That's how he found out about the cyst. Afterward he had to rebuild everything -- walking, talking, everything. He told me that it's all worth it.
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