When I was facing my switch to Medicare I knew I’d probably have to leave Planet Rehab (NRH). I broached the subject with M37 on one of our wandering trips around campus. She decided we should climb all the steps in a particular parking garage. I went along with it since it only looked like three stories from the outside. It turned out to be five. Booooo for visual disturbances. You know, M, if we go up we have to come down, I said.
That’s the point, she confirmed. And she turned her attention back to making sure I didn’t touch any railings or walls throughout the (arduous) process.
When we reached the top of the garage we had a nice view of DC against a sunny blue sky. I took the opportunity to bring up the possibility of continuing treatment at Planet Rehab under Medicare. Blah blah blah…I might have to leave you but we can’t talk about it bc I might die, I blurted out.
I actually informed her via letter (I know – very passive aggressive) or perhaps there was a text message, too, that I would not be returning after my 3 month stay at Ai Ai and Tim’s. Remember how I said I might die when we were on the top floor of the parking garage? Well I just might, I wrote.
I thanked her for a couple of very significant things that I’ll never forget, but there were also a lot of insignificant things that helped me, too. For example, when Matthew died on Downton Abbey she prepped me for the general shock on Tuesday and I decided I needed to know specifics by Thursday.
Now that I work with Trainer D and Coach R, these sort of discussions don’t happen. Questions I’ve fielded lately are, “Do you know what a bicycle kick is?” “Do you know how to say goal in Arabic?” “What about penalty as in penalty kick?” I try to educate them a little since neither grew up with sisters, Trainer D has no kids, and Coach R only has boys. Examples:
When I was bemoaning the uneven wear on the toes of my shoes (the left toe is ripped up on my sneakers bc my left foot still drags and has been acting up lately): This is awful. I’m a girl – we measure things in cost per wear.
To Coach R while I was on the leg press – I have no idea why we were talking about this: The length of your pant leg is influenced by the height of your heel. (C’mon, ladies – you know what I mean. What if you want to wear high heels that day but you want to wear flats on the Metro?)
Trainer D: You have little baby hands! (i.e. they are not all ripped up like his)
Me: That’s bc I’m delicate like a flower :).
Trainer D: Girls moisturize too much.
This comment led to a teaching moment regarding exfoliation. It was a completely fruitless exercise. That’s two minutes of my life I will never get back.
I was soooo sore last Saturday I thought, It’s just as I suspected. D and R ARE trying to kill me on purpose.
And yet I keep coming back for more. Have a great long weekend. See you in September!