I feel quite disheartened by today’s outpatient physio appointment. I will try to get through this post without a whole rant. Please bear with me.
Brady has being going to physio at City Hospital since he finished radiation. It went like this:
Nine weeks in rehab
Five weeks of radiation (one week overlapped with rehab)
Two weeks break
Outpatient physio began
Two weeks break
First round of chemo
So. Its been a lot.
Outpatient physio had felt really productive so far. Brady was able to accomplish these challenging balancing exercises, build endurance, and walk further and further. It seemed really good. Hopeful.
At his last appointment, Brady was informed that his therapist was moving on, and he’d be seeing someone new. This was kind of a neutral thing, to be honest. No burn on his physio, but the new one seemed like a good fit, so all was well.
Today, Brady saw the new physio. I had to run an errand or two with him before the appointment, so I waited in the van with Solly and Wavy. It was SUCH an easy, adorable gig.
They’re so weird. They pretended the van was a ship, and it kept them BUSY for an hour!
And then it grew to an hour and a half. And we were cutting it super close to being home in time for the kids to get home from school! Thank goodness, suddenly he was at the van, apologizing profusely, and off we sped to get home.
Once we were on the road, I asked how the appointment had gone. Did it run late because they were late? Or was it just a super full appointment?
It was a super full appointment.
Brady learned that his previous physio had pushed for things she shouldn’t have. I understand why. Brady is young and a super hard worker and strong and capable and eager and all those good things. So she wanted him to accomplish as much as possible. But as you know, if you skip steps or cut corners, it does damage. Brady can do all the things she asked of him, but the wrong muscles have been compensating, because they haven’t been exercised or strengthened properly, or in order.
Brady’s right side is SO messed up. He has been using his core muscles and thigh muscles to do just about anything in a standing/walking position, leaving his right hip virtually useless. It is very, very weak. And muscles that aren’t utilized properly or often will atrophy. They will waste away. This is not yet our reality, but its a very real risk. We do NOT want this.
I was very upset to learn this. Brady was, too, though he had a better grasp on gratefulness for having a physiotherapist who is more knowledgable on his particular situation.
The last punch in the gut was learning that Brady apparently is only entitled to 16 physio appointments at the hospital. Apparently that is the standard program. And Brady used NINE on the first physio.
Ugh. Just typing that out makes me want to cry.
His new physio is very aware of the situation, and because of this, she stretched his appointment out as long as possible, working to fill it with as much information as possible, as many exercises, and by gaining as much knowledge as she could. She booked his next one a little ways off so he has lots of time to build the right muscles, and they anticipate emailing back and forth throughout those weeks so she can offer Brady as much support and information along the way. Its the best setup we can get, so we’ll take it. She is clearly going above and beyond for him, and we are SO grateful.
But I must admit. I feel incredibly disheartened. Frustrated. Protective. Jilted.
Pity party over.