In my defense...it was probably involuntary.

Hello all!

So as I continue my treatment of my faulty foot tendon, I've learned to overcome a few things that used to make me feel uncomfortable or embarrassed.

1)  I let my aging mother do more standing and moving around our Farmer's Market Booth on Saturdays because I've found if I over do it, I'm in pain for the rest of the day.

2) I simply do not navigate stairs if I can avoid them. Which means letting Hubby do the laundry.  Which generally makes me feel helpless and useless, but I'm sort of over it.

3) Again with the stairs: the other night, at a work function dinner, rather than skipping out because I knew we'd be seated upstairs and I can't deal with stairs at the moment, I called ahead, found out there was an elevator that went to the second floor from the parking garage, and didn't even make a comment about how a fluffy girl has to use the elevator.

But...the weirdest thing I think I've done and not blushed over is this:  I kicked my Physical Therapy Boy, and I don't even care.

Now I like to picture the kick something like this: 

But it was nothing like that.

No, here's what happened:  PPTB was starting to hook me up to the dry needling machine.  This would be the third treatment and so far, nothing terribly painful had happened, so I was flat on my back, on his moderately uncomfortable table with a really thin pillow under my head, and we were chatting about this and that. Movies, I think. I don't know. 

The first needle was no problem. But that second one...

The lower half of my leg and my entire foot felt like it was on fire. Not the "oh my foot is warm..." no, it was more like, "I AM ON FIRE RIGHT NOW!"

I started yelling, "ow, ow, ow" and that's when it happened.  I closed my eyes, because of the pain, and my leg, independent of my brain, kicked upward.

I gotta be honest.  I have no idea really WHERE my foot landed.  Gut...arm...chest...something a little more...um...lower. I have no idea. My eyes were closed plus I was lying on my back and for those of you who do not understand the anatomy of a fluffy girl, once she is flat on her back the only thing she can see is the ceiling or her gut.

I opened my eyes and PPTG helped me sit up.  I still had one needle sticking out of my leg, but he hadn't hooked me up to the electric box yet. Which made this weird to me.

"I must have hit a nerve," says PPTB.

"You must have hit all of them!"  I say in a loud voice. I don't care that we're in a tiny room.  I don't care that I just kicked him and he looks as pained as I do.  

I do, however, care very much that I can't straighten out my left leg.

That's when I start yelling "CHARLEY HORSE! CHARLEY HORSE!" 

He looks at my leg and we pinpoint the area of the most pain.  He rubs it a little and it seems to be better, so we decide to keep trying the dry needling.  

"I may have a trust issue for a little bit," says I.

Oh?

I can't even lie back down. The Charley horse in my calf is too much and my foot still burns. So he pulls out the one remaining needle and I sit up again.

That's when I remember I kicked him. I ask if he's okay. He says yes.  But, poor young one, I think he's more than a little worried about any damage we might just have done to each other.

"I think we're done for today," I inform him.

"You might be right," he responds weakly.

I'm supposed to go see him tomorrow. Now, one tiny evil part of me wants to cancel just to make him a little nervous.