Latest update: October 31st, 2013
Who came up with this concept of physical therapy? Honestly…ouch.
So, my left arm can reach higher…and go closer towards the back of my body. Each meeting is another painful encounter but it moves forward (and back). I seem to be the only person frustrated with the pace of this recovery. The physical therapist says for 8+ weeks, I’m doing very well.
Yesterday, I was frustrated when I went shopping with Amira. I keep putting myself in the same situation – sure, I can handle this…um…oops, no I can’t.
In this case, the “it” was pushing a loaded shopping cart through the store, to the checkout counter, repacking and taking the bagged/loaded cart to the car. The store was packed – a common occurrence on Wednesday and Thursday nights in Israel.
An older woman stepped forward and asked for my shopping cart. I told her it would take me a while to unload – she wasn’t happy, but figured she didn’t have a choice.
It was slow. Amira came up way before I had finished with her own cart. As she did, a man and his daughter came towards us. The older woman was quick to tell him that she had claimed my cart…unless Amira got hers emptied first, in which case, she’d take that one. The man was polite. I’m not sure I would have been. He just smiled.
Then the woman turned to me and asked if the food in my cart was for one family and then said, “now I know where all the food in the country is going.”
She was joking but I was too tired to find the humor. I wanted to explain that part of the groceries were for Elie and his wife, who are tired and at home with their baby daughter. I wanted to explain that I haven’t gone shopping in a few weeks and there were some good sales.
I think I mumbled something about how she couldn’t know how many children I have or whatever. Amira finished and the woman took the cart and then I started to complain. Amira was wonderful and patient – she always seems to find the good in a situation.
The man with the daughter, still waiting so patiently for my cart (which Amira had commandeered while ordering me away…away…no, away…) smiled and said, “don’t let her bother you.” I love that about this country – so many step forward to help, to understand.
I’m doing better than I expected…the only problem is that I’m running out of patience with myself. The good news is that the physical therapist feels I am getting towards the end of that window in which I could re-injure myself.
I’m almost completely off painkillers – can you imagine, I actually took something because I had a headache not because of the pain in my arm!! Yeah, me!
And best of all, I get to hold little Michal. It’s still hard and I can’t hold her for long if the holding includes feeding her or reinserting her pacifier. I can sit for long periods with her in my right arm.
She’s tiny. She’s beautiful and she’s very cute. And my heart still melts every time Elie picks her up and kisses her, calls her all sorts of cute names. He loves to pick her up after she’s eaten, look her straight in the eye and say, “time to burp” and then he burps and says, “like that.”
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