1, 2, 3 breathe in, breathe out
up the ladder my fingers go.
I step closer to the wall
closer than last week
walk my fingers up, up, up
like the itsy bitsy spider
until my shoulder screams STOP!
A 30ish man in the corner
with an Aggie baseball cap, Gig ‘Em!
is making all the assistant girls
laugh with his talk of purple carrots
and something about rows of corn
“Look it up on Amazon,” he says.
And now I’m flat on the table
lifting a bar with 5 lb weights
way up and back, back, back
as far as I can go behind my head
breathing in, breathing out, 1, 2, 3.
An old lady’s next to me-
her husband, pushed to the limits,
walks away with an exasperated sigh
she stares at the ceiling, nonplussed.
There are popsicle sticks up there-
one says Dr. Payne, shows stars
and I think about the spasm
in my heart that will never go away
no matter how I breathe.
@laurie kolp
Written for dVerse OpenLinkNight
My first physical therapy session starts tomorrow at 7am. We’ll get through this.
Good luck… it gets better each time.
ugh…at least PT is inspiring poetry eh? smiles…keep pushing and just think there is an end in sight right? smiles.
Yes, there is. It’s already getting better (I’m doing my homework).
Yeah, they don’t make a gym or fool-proof therapy for those, do they?
You’re an inspiration, I love the small details here. Against the backdrop of mundane conversations and environment, you brought me into your struggle.
Wonderful. You will master your PT just as you master poetry.
Thank you, Mosk.
there are things we can cure and others we can’t…love how you go from physical to psychical… felt..
Glad to hear the PT is helping. Great job capturing the physical therapy experience…much prefer it poetically than when I was really going
Oh, PT is no fun at all, especially when it gives pain. When I broke tib & fib across my ankle, it took nearly 6 months before I could walk again with permanent metal plate & screws to hold it all together. I had to have PT for the last 6 weeks to re-learn how to use my foot/ankle again. Still have a limp and LOTS of pain in it.
I feel for you, but, as long as it’s starting to feel better that’s all that matters.
counting 1,2,3 when the wight is 5? shouldn’t you be counting 1,2,3,4,5? wait that’s illogical, cuz if it were 150 lb…you’d never let it down.
they aren’t letting me beyond 2 lb in PT.
I liked watching the other people in PT too. but we’re not supposed to, HIPA, you know!!
sonnet 36
I’m flat on my back and the five pound weight is in the center of the bar.
Hope it is gong well for you! I love the real sense of being there with you that I get in this piece–great write!
Oh dear! Good luck with the shoulder! The spasm in the heart harder to heal as you’ve noted so well. K .
This was a really enjoyable poem, I love the realism it was anchored in.
I so know what you mean Laurie. The first few sessions I really embarrassed myself with the shrieks that escaped despite trying to keep my teeth gritted–sweat breaking out–and a few times i did actually feel like my heart was going to just lock up–but it does get easier, and it’s a wonderful feeling to start to get the arm back and not be afraid of paralysis and jabs of agony. You describe it well, laurie–see how you’ve brought it all back, after over ten years? Good job.
You really depicted every little bit of such a task, not something I wish to ever see the side of, had a pinched nerve in the neck that was no fun, took a while before I got past 5lbs haha.
I had a feeling it was physical therapy. Had knee surgery a few years ago and was amazed at how a few hours can change the flexibility and strength of a joint.
I like how you took this session and made a poem out of your PT experience. I hope it becomes better and better for you ~
yikes, I used to be one of those therapists. I’m wanting to know more about this Dr. Payne for some reason.
Laurie, I enjoyed your visit to the PT. The final stanza is great. Keep up the good work writing and healing.
I don’t know but I’am reading this after doing an hour of yoga. and I hurt all over again. Thank your empathy.
a great beat and rythmn and a subtle quest underlying it all;
nonplussed – what a marvelous expression – one of my faves
yes, i love how you turn this moment, these moments that could be so mundane into beautiful poetry.
One more way to grow physically, mentally, and therapeutically–poeticize it! And beautifully so!
Controlled breathing can sure change the way a moment unfolds. It’s my savior many times a day.
Love the ending:
“I think about the spasm
in my heart that will never go away
no matter how I breathe”
I loved the play on words in your last four lines…just beautiful writing…
spasm in my heart, really like that for both its literal and figurative connotations. The 1,2,3 lines do a great job of framing/sectioning the parts here. nicely done. thanks
brilliant take on PT, Laurie! though i am sorry you’re having to go through the pain!
my problem with PT in the open room is getting panic attacks when around too many people or in a situation like PT where i feel like everyone’s looking at me! {even knowing full well that everyone is concentrating on what THEY are there for.}
i hope the healing comes quickly for you ~ doing your homework, it will!
♥
Patience and determination. All the best, Laurie.
Love the little distractions in this scene too.
I love the observation of small details. Dr. Payne, indeed… Thanks for taking us along for the ride – may each session get easier, stronger, more flexible, a little closer to the wall!
brings new meaning to “no pain, no gain”
Was the spasm in your heart the source of this wonderfully lively and in-our-faces poem about your PT session? If so, I would call it a healthy spasm and just breathe blissfully along with you AFTER you leave the PT session. Love the way you describe that wife looking at the ceiling in exasperation! Sometime next year, you will be laughing with us at all of this!
Oh, the reminders… not fun but one of those necessary tortures. Wonderful sharing.
For some reason the opening of this made the itsy bitsy spider song pop in my head. I’m glad there was no rain that came and washed you out! Good luck with the physical therapy. Great poem.
Hard to be in pain but the one in the heart so much harder, I am sorry Laurie.
Gripping right from the outset. Just wonderful!