HOPE AND CROSBY TRAVELED MANY ROADS TOGETHER—to Singapore and Zanzibar, Morocco and Rio, Bali and Hong Kong and even Utopia. Connie and I have also traveled those roads—we still haven't found Utopia—but for me, none has been more troublesome than the Road to Recovery.
S-T-R-E-T-C-H
Medicare provides for twice-weekly Physical Therapy sessions with Sarah. She appears to be one of the most sensitive of the therapists, a blessing in my eyes, and spends a lot of time massaging my shoulder and forcibly increasing the range-of-motion. She trusts the grunt work—repeated sets of many reps of flexibility and strength exercises—for my daily hour of at-home therapy so only Connie hears my moans and groans and my musical choices, Ravel's Bolero and Rite of Spring by Stravinsky.
Pulley stretch, a mainstay Finger-walk, harder than it looks
Just as I become comfortable with one routine, she adds another exercise that pushes me further along. The most difficult ones, surprisingly, look the easiest like the “finger walk” up a wall to full extension. Just today she added free-weights, if a one-pound dumbbell qualifies. For home exercise I use a can of diced tomatoes and hope soon to graduate to family-size mushroom soup.
Progress, one can at a time
Such are the milestones on the Road to Recovery.
