We finally got to go see Doogie (my cardiologist) for the follow up appointment and let me just say, I am, at this point, convinced that there is a general rule among doctors that specialize that they DO NOT talk to each other. They may very easily share an office, share a receptionist, but God forbid they actual share the same air and speak to each other. Dr. Pooh Bear had done the TEE and implanted the heart monitor when I was in the hospital and here I am 3 weeks later in Doogie's office, an office that he shares with Dr. Pooh Bear, and he comes in and the first thing he says to me is, "Another stroke? Really?" Yes, really. Not my first choice of post-Cinco De Mayo activities, but it seemed to fit, so why not? (I was told by Dr. M that the stroke affected the part of my brain that controls my "filter". It has been extremely difficult to keep some things unsaid. I think my Warden is working overtime sometimes because I will open my mouth to say something and get The Look--parents know what look it is. The one that you give your kids in "grown up company" or at church. The look that says, Shut up or you will be forever grounded!--and close my mouth again without speaking. But man it would really feel good to get all of this out.)
Then Doogie starts looking at the chart and asked, "Where was I? Why didn't they call me over to the hospital? Was I on vacation?" Again, my Warden had to give The Look because I really wanted to say, "Gee Doc, I don't know. Where were you? Didn't see ya at all during the whole stay even though we were just right over there next door..you could've walked over, even...and we told them who my cardiologist is." But The Look told me to shut up and just let The Warden talk. We informed him about the heart monitor implantation and he looked puzzled and said, "Well, I'm gonna have to figure out how to get the data from it." My first thought was, "uh, yeah, that'd be nice." I just smiled and nodded instead. Doogie did have nice socks on though. They were a cool Notre Dame navy and gold argyle pattern.
We left Doogie's with a new prescription and orders to wait for the Pacemaker Group to call us about the Heart Monitor. At this point, I was starting to feel a little unsure of what I had implanted in me, which just went back to the New World Order microchipping theory I had held previously.
The next day we got to actually go to Physical Therapy and Occupational Therapy at the Jim Thorpe Rehab facility in Edmond. We had no idea at all what to expect. What exactly was Occupational Therapy anyway? But, we got there and our first appointment was with the Occupational Therapist. Mr Miyagi tested my strength in my hands and fingers and the sense of feeling in my hands and the strength in my arms. I thought I was rocking awesome up to this point. After all, I had been working hard at home for the past 2 weeks on the exercises they gave me at the hospital. Nope. I still sucked.
There's this machine, its called a handgrip dynamometer, that you squeeze and it measures, hand grip strength. They also are used to give a general index of a person's overall body strength. Hand dynamometers are also used to test comparative strength in the left and right arms. My right hand gripped 68 pounds. My left hand...10 pounds. Yep. I was super weak. (Did I mention that my left hand should have been able to do at least 50-55 pounds since it was my non-dominant hand?) After the testing and measuring to get Baseline measurements, I was put through a series of upper body workouts. The one I absolutely hated was the Wax On/Wax Off. I still hate this task, and I'm still forced to do it every time. I'm sure that it is beneficial, but I don't like it. Imagine a large, 10" or so bouncy ball from Dollar Tree. Now put the weak arm up as you are facing a wall and hold the ball with your palm flat against the ball and hold the ball against a wall, keeping your arm straight but not locking your elbow. Now move your shoulder and upper arm slightly so that you are making the ball move in a clockwise position. Do this for 2 minutes. Just like the Wax On part of The Karate Kid. Then change and do counterclockwise. Wax Off. Then change so you are facing with your body facing 90 degrees away from the wall but your arm is stretched out straight and repeat the whole process. It is 8 minutes of pure agony! My arm hates me when I'm done. I'm sure I didn't use those muscles before the stroke, but man, they are gonna be ready to be used when this is all done.
So, after Mr Miyagi gets done abusing me, I get handed off to Mama and the Rabbi for Physical Therapy. I was definitely not sure what to expect from this dynamic duo either. I found out that Mama had just recently returned from having an adorable little boy and that the guy following her around and being her helper (the Rabbi) was from a local university and was "paying his dues" so to speak in this facility. I don't know if he is or is not Jewish, he is just a great scholar (always pulling out unknown terms for things that nobody has ever heard of) and looks like (I know, I'm profiling) he should be wearing a kippah. They quickly set about starting their testing and measurements. Now remember, I've been working at home for 2 weeks, surely I'll be able to do whatever it is that they want me to do with flying colors, right? WRONG...again.
One of the tests that they did required me to sit in a chair, get up, walk 10 feet. Turn around, come back and sit back down in the chair. No problem. I got this. Charlie (my walker) and I had been zooming around our house for several days...what's 10 feet? Well...it was 30 seconds is what it was. It should have been 10 seconds or less, unassisted. Charlie was offended, I think. Then, they asked me to stand on my left leg only and just stand there for 5 seconds. I'm sure they had smoked some of that wacky weed at lunch because my left leg didn't feel like cooperating. I just kinda held hands with Mama and attempted this one. (by the way, I'm not supposed to hold on during this little game). I barely made the 5 seconds, holding on to somebody else. Yep. I sucked at this too. After they got all of their measurements and baseline gobbedly-gook that they needed for their reports, I was finally allowed to go home. I'd have to come back the next day though for more therapy (actual therapy, not testing and measurements). That evening I was exhausted. Just doing those few random things wore me out. After a 4 hour nap, I got up, ate dinner and went back to bed. Strokes suck. But there's always tomorrow..That's when the REAL therapy begins.
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