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| Barb Polan Barb’s Recovery |
Success today took the form of a small yellow ball at occupational therapy. As I was lying down, OT Stephanie had me put my hands on either side of it and push it toward the ceiling until both arms were fully extended, then lower it to my chest and/or abdomen, then up again. To do it, I recruited every arm muscle I could remember looking at in Dr. Netter's atlas of human anatomy. Up, down, 10 times, then 10 more. When she asked me how that felt, I said,"Like my right arm was doing most of the work."
"Your left arm was working, too, though, or it would have flopped back down, which it didn't," she said. "How did it feel?"
It occurred to me that my left arm - that stupid recalcitrant one - had finally successfully accomplished something. Instead of my OT asking me to do something and having my left arm fail, my arm did it! How did that make me feel? I burst into tears; she patted me on the shoulder and asked me whether I was getting any counseling to help me with my ordeal. I said no, because I thought I was all right dealing with the whole thing. Given, though, how fragile I have become for being such a strong person, she had a good point and I'm thinking that next week I'll look into my counseling options.
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