Journey on…

They say life is a journey, right?

Other than a brief stay in Le Mans, France fifteen years ago (how has it been 15 years already??), I’ve always lived in New England, never straying too far from my hometown. Life has taken us from NH to Maine and back again. We have been in NH for almost 4 years now, and have seen our share of changes: our second son was born in May 2015, we have a dog, and now a new cat. We bought a house in fall of 2015, and have settled in an area close to my family. I work nearby, and the boys go to school close – the oldest is six and in first grade, and the youngest in almost three and in daycare. It’s a busy life, with a lot going on: Tae Kwon Do and Cub Scouts for the big kid, with multiple other events tossed around.

We visited the Chicago suburbs in mid-January, bringing the boys on their first flight. They absolutely loved the airplane and being able to “take to the skies,” as the wee one crooned for the majority of the two and a half hour journey. They were incredibly well-behaved for the entirety of the flight, through the airports (both here at home and in Chicago), and on our way to the hotel. It was a very early morning flight, and I was astonished at the high level of good behavior they exhibited. They tolerated the long drives well, and we were able to check out the Cabela’s and Bass Pro Shops in the area. There’s a lot to do in the surrounding areas, even without venturing into Chicago itself.

The journey has recently brought us in a new direction. Husband o’ mine has earned a promotion and will be starting a new position at the US office of his current company – in Aurora, Illinois. This means that we’ll be moving at some point over the next year, settling in the Chicago suburbs. It’s a huge change. I am excited for the new adventure. It’s funny, because though we have talked about it quite a bit over the past few years, it’s actually becoming a reality.

We don’t have a timeline yet, just a vague at some point soonish. There are a lot of moving parts, and we have a lot to consider. But I’m looking forward to our next adventure.

And don’t worry, NH, we’ll be back to visit.


On healing: 7 weeks out

Today is (finally) Friday.

I had my first physical therapy visit a week ago Wednesday, my second yesterday, and I have  my third today. When I saw the doctor last (May 2), I was one day short of 5 weeks past surgery date. He wanted me done with the crutches by May 9, and out of the walking boot by May 23. I would be able to drive shortly after May 23. At that point I was still relying on the crutches completely, as I was being a good girl and following directions.

Well, that information set me free. I have been working from home since February 13, and the last time I drove was February 12. I had had enough. By May 4 I was finished with the crutches, and I haven’t used the walking boot since May 11. I will be practicing driving Saturday (in an empty parking lot), to make sure that my ankle will tolerate it.

I have been seeing the same physical therapist for the past 6 years (not just the same practice, but also the same therapist – he knows my joints quite well by now), and today I will be starting at a new practice. Because I have not been able to drive, my awesome husband has been chauffeuring me around for the past 3 months. To be honest, we’re both tired of it. However, it has to be done. Anyway. The new PT location is a mere 15 minutes away, whereas the old PT location is about an hour away, next to my office. It was perfect when I would go to PT then go directly to work – it cut down on the commute time significantly. But since I’m working out of the house (for another couple weeks), I can’t lose half of a day due to commuting and PT. It’s not quite convenient.

I’m nervous about seeing a new physical therapist, because Dave – the old one – knows me so well, and we have a good friendship as well. We talk books, we talk munchkin and his kids, we talk life. He gets it. He knows me. How will it be with this next person? Will we end up with a good camaraderie, or will I simply go to physical therapy, do my exercises, report on how I’m feeling, and go home? I spend so much time in physical therapy – in the past 6 years, the longest I went NOT in physical therapy was from February (or was it March?) 2011 to now. I spent 6 months straight at one point going to PT at least once a week. It’s just what happens when I so easily injure myself (I’m working on that).

I spent 20 minutes by myself with munchkin Monday night (while he was awake) – the first time I had done that in 2 months – followed by a couple hours later on that same evening (while he was asleep). It was nice to be able to have the ability to take care of munchkin on my own, and to know that I was trusted enough to do it.

***Fast forward 3.5 hours***

I had PT this morning with a new therapist, Justin. Things were very different from the last place. Old PT is one big room with lots of tables, and nothing is quiet. New PT is lots of little rooms for consults, and then one big room for exercises. At first I thought  – Hey! this isn’t normal. It’s weird! – but then I realized I preferred it. I don’t need everyone knowing my business. There was one other huge difference. Whenever I went to old PT, I made sure to bring a book because I was often on my own for a bit icing or with heat. For an hour appointment, I would really only have Dave to myself for about 15 minutes, and it was definitely not 15 minutes straight through. If I needed to ask a question, I had to either wait until he wasn’t with a different patient, or had to interrupt. I don’t know why they book every 20-30 minutes if appointments last 60. With new guy – Justin – I had him to myself. He worked with me, and I had his full attention the entire time. It was a great change. Justin also focused on things that are going to get me back to where I need to be more quickly, and better – I know all physical therapists are different, but it seemed like new PT had a better handle on what I need to recover to the best of my ability.

So here I am, 7 weeks out from surgery, walking in sneakers, and really in a much better place than I ever anticipated. I’m happy, healthy, and on the right track to being 100% healed.

What have you done better than you ever expected you could?