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rivkaMy second physical therapy appointment this evening. We started out with heat packs under my back and cupping my neck. I drowsed for about twenty minutes, feeling the heat seep into my muscles to ease them, and then she spent the rest of the session massaging me. At the end of the hour, we spent five minutes on four gentle, painless exercises. I left there feeling great.
This isn't just different from my previous post-surgery physical therapy, or the intensive strengthening and gait retraining I did last fall. I was in a car accident when I was sixteen, and the resulting physical therapy for whiplash was incredibly painful - solely exercise-based, no heat or massage or hydrotherapy or anything. I feel so grateful to this therapist. It's not just that it feels good - it's really helping.
Misha went to the body shop after work to clear the rest of our things out of our totalled car, and got a better look at the damage than either of us had gotten at the accident scene. Apparently, there was substantial damage to the rear of the car on the passenger side - we'd thought it was mostly the bumper, but he said that once you open the trunk it's clear that there's quite a bit of damage to the frame. And mostly on my side, which would explain why I've had more pain and been slower to recover.
I'm not sure why having an explanation is so important to me. In a weird way, I feel slightly guilty for not being better already. I think I always have a sneaking fear that people will think I'm complaining too much about my health, or that I'm a hypochondriac. That's exaggerated in this case because I have a soft-tissue injury from a car accident, for which I'm going to be receiving compensation. I've worked in a pain clinic - I know the skepticism that greets complaints of soft-tissue pain when there are lawyers or insurance companies involved. I'm certain myself that "compensation syndrome" is not at the root of my pain, but it also seems to be important to me to muster a defense.
I'm relieved that the physical damage to the car substantiates the amount of pain I'm feeling. I was quite relieved on Tuesday when the physical therapist could actually see the swelling in my neck and back. And at the same time I'm irritated with myself for thinking this is important. No one has accused me.
*headshake* I'm sleepy, and not making a tremendous amount of sense. And so to bed.
This isn't just different from my previous post-surgery physical therapy, or the intensive strengthening and gait retraining I did last fall. I was in a car accident when I was sixteen, and the resulting physical therapy for whiplash was incredibly painful - solely exercise-based, no heat or massage or hydrotherapy or anything. I feel so grateful to this therapist. It's not just that it feels good - it's really helping.
Misha went to the body shop after work to clear the rest of our things out of our totalled car, and got a better look at the damage than either of us had gotten at the accident scene. Apparently, there was substantial damage to the rear of the car on the passenger side - we'd thought it was mostly the bumper, but he said that once you open the trunk it's clear that there's quite a bit of damage to the frame. And mostly on my side, which would explain why I've had more pain and been slower to recover.
I'm not sure why having an explanation is so important to me. In a weird way, I feel slightly guilty for not being better already. I think I always have a sneaking fear that people will think I'm complaining too much about my health, or that I'm a hypochondriac. That's exaggerated in this case because I have a soft-tissue injury from a car accident, for which I'm going to be receiving compensation. I've worked in a pain clinic - I know the skepticism that greets complaints of soft-tissue pain when there are lawyers or insurance companies involved. I'm certain myself that "compensation syndrome" is not at the root of my pain, but it also seems to be important to me to muster a defense.
I'm relieved that the physical damage to the car substantiates the amount of pain I'm feeling. I was quite relieved on Tuesday when the physical therapist could actually see the swelling in my neck and back. And at the same time I'm irritated with myself for thinking this is important. No one has accused me.
*headshake* I'm sleepy, and not making a tremendous amount of sense. And so to bed.
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Date: 2002-06-04 10:39 am (UTC)[Hm. I hope noodling with this is OK. Please ignore questions if they're not useful, OK?]
Is that guilt of the flavor "I know all this stuff in my head, so shouldn't I be able to do it faster?" or of the "only one condition to a customer, so I don't get allowed to have another difficulty" flavor, or of the "but I'm supposed to be a helper, not burdening the helper team!" flavor, or of some other sort?
"I think I always have a sneaking fear that people will think I'm complaining too much about my health, or that I'm a hypochondriac."
If I had a magic empathy wand, I would wave it over the world so that all the un-ouched people who were finding it challenging to hear about somebody's on-going ouches could generalize from their fatigue/irritation/helplessness/etc. to some beginning of understanding about what emotions the ouched person might be dealing with first-hand.
Then there's dealing with the fear that the good will of others can get used up. (wry look) (hug offered if wanted)
"That's exaggerated in this case because I have a soft-tissue injury from a car accident, for which I'm going to be receiving compensation. I've worked in a pain clinic - I know the skepticism that greets complaints of soft-tissue pain when there are lawyers or insurance companies involved. I'm certain myself that 'compensation syndrome' is not at the root of my pain, but it also seems to be important to me to muster a defense."
If a person, especially a professional, is aware of a common complication of an injury, I think it makes a lot of sense for them to find themselves thinking about their own situation in light of that knowledge. (says the Lioness, mildly.)
"I'm relieved that the physical damage to the car substantiates the amount of pain I'm feeling.
Inanimate objects are wonderfully comforting sometimes, not least because they are rarely intimidated into refraining from bearing witness to what has occurred.
"I was quite relieved on Tuesday when the physical therapist could actually see the swelling in my neck and back. And at the same time I'm irritated with myself for thinking this is important. No one has accused me."
If a person has seen repeated instances of people accusing a category of people of something, and then a person turns out to be in that category, a person might understandably (and unfortunately*) take the generic accusation that hovers in the public world rather personally.
And under the heading of "making lemonade after one has dug oneself out of the lemon avalanche", if a person is going to be working professionally with clients who have experienced soft-tissue injuries, though, it makes a helluva selling point to have dealt with that stuff first-hand, and no doubt could improve a person's professional skills in other ways too. (Hey, if a writer can console herself with "it's all material", why not other workers in crafts involving empathy and insight?)
* this comment wants unfolding, but I haven't got it in me to unfold it just now. It has something to do with some stuff Eleanor Roosevelt said once.?