Physio is Good

I'm on my second round of physio at Foul Bay Physio. My physiotherapist is Ian Catchpole. I was looking forward to the second appointment, since I feel as though I've moved so far ahead with the exercises from the first I visited him. But when I got to the building the elevator was broken. Rebecca and I took three flights of stairs, not something I would have chosen to do if things had been equal. When we got to the third floor is when she remembered the office is on the second floor of the building. By the time I got to the physio office, I was pretty well warmed up.

At home I'm to do my physio exercises three times a day (I try to fit in 5 times) working my arm gently, enjoying the stretch rather than fearing it.

There are a lot of things in the day that I have to organize so that I get them completed. I am still making a list and checking it twice. It seems like I have to go from physio, to eating three meals a day, to brushing my teeth after every meal, to at least taking my plate to the kitchen and then that eternal round begins again.

The skirt at the bottom of the tree.
the tree too high for me to tip my
camera in the direction of
those taller branches.

Yesterday (Jan 21st),  I added my first walk outside. It was Catherine's birthday.

I told her I would go for an outside walk in honour of her birth. It would be my first walk along the street, since coming here.

Catherine told me to take a picture of something beautiful along the way.

That was my first idea when I came outside and saw Rebecca's tall tree that she calls a Doctor Seuss tree -- it has a wonky spine and the tree goes a long way up. I took out my camera and was trying to capture the height of that tree, stepping backwards, backwards, then finding myself tripping and that's when I righted myself against a nearby cherry tree.

I dropped the idea of photography as the first thing I should think about when taking my walk.

I tried to keep my eyes focussed a few yards ahead of me on the pavement, and notice where I was. There was a wind chill. I felt my scarf blowing at my neck and could feel the wind inside of my coat, its bite against legs. I was thinking about the temperature somewhere around 7 Celsius. It was the wind that was giving me the that I should get back inside. 

In other circumstances, this walk would have felt good. I went to the end of the block and back … twice, once more than I had intended.

Arta