My hand therapist Lynn has a very wonderful job. She meets people from all walks of life and she never has to leave her office. Her office is inside Optimum Orthopedics in the middle of a huge therapy room. There are people getting stretched on massage tables, people being instructed on exercise equipment, some people are rolling medicine balls up and down the hallway and some people are doing stretches and squats in random open spots - tons of activity going on.
And then there's us, the hand therapy people.
3, 4 sometimes 5 of us at a time sitting in Lynn's 'office' which is really just a big table and with chairs. The table has what looks like
pre-school tools and toys; a box filled with rice, pairs and pairs of scissors, silly putty in not just neon yellow and but neon orange as well, dodge balls but of course they're for hand stretching not head pummeling. What else? Put it this way, this is occupational therapy 101 and if you need to use it in real life, there's a good chance it's on that table or nearby, and a good chance you will be using it.
It's going really well and I thoroughly enjoy going there. The place is huge, with wall to wall windows and sun light flooding in. The therapists and assistants are sweet and always smiling and I can't deny the progress I'm making. Lynn is a very straight-forward person and tells it like it is. She is tiny but strong and pushes you harder than you expect. She laughs easily but then snaps right back into her professional posture taking what she does seriously. I couldn't have designed a better or healthier environment for me to respond to positively.
This, by the way, was not the first place I went to. The first place I went to was in the basement of an old house. It looked antiquated on the inside and out. I'm pretty sure they didn't even have computers behind the desks as I could hear someone typing away in the distance on what distinctly sounded like a standard old fashioned typewriter.
As soon as I got inside the building, I had a feeling that this place was not the place - but it was the place - so I continued.
I was on time for my appointment but yet caused to wait twenty minutes before being brought down deeper inside the belly of this beast. The ceilings were low and there seemed to be many rooms off of the main which was really small. There was some exercise equipment but only one older woman using any of it with a young man assisting her. I did happen to notice all the blinds were pulled on the windows - so - only fluorescent lighting for this facility and it's clients.
I was asked to sit and wait in an office for another 10 minutes. There were a few things that bothered me about this. I had already waited for 20 minutes, what could possibly be the hold up for a new patient in a facility with only one person rehabbing? As I sat there I was reminded of all the interviews I had given and received while working in corporate America. I loathed sitting in there waiting for whomever it was that was making me wait - and oh, could it be the guy that I can see when I look out the office doorway to my left sitting with his back to me? No. It couldn't be. What is he doing? Paperwork?
Hmmm. No, can't be him. Tick. Tick.
Get me the hell out of this office was what was going through my head. This is not the right place for me - but it was - so I waited.
Finally, I sense movement to my left and sure enough, he gets up as if no one's waiting for him and as nonchalantly as he was sitting there, strolled on into his office and put his right hand out and introduced himself saying his name which immediately flew at the speed of light into one ear and directly out the other because among other things, I can't shake hands. I reach out with my left and introduce myself only to hear him say . . .
"What's the matter? You don't use your right hand to shake when you meet someone?"Don't I?
I thought "is this guy kidding me'? 'I've travelled all over the United States of America as a Corporate Executive and this guy insults me in the first millisecond of our meeting'? No he did not. The gall.
I tried hard not to put my mean, business face on but it was too late for that.
"If you
had read my file, you would
know that I
broke my right wrist and
can't shake your hand or any one
else's for that matter"! I replied.
He said nothing as he began to read my file, while yet again, I waited. Then after very little examination and discussion, he escorted me to a tiny, stall-like room and put my hand into a dry, hot-air, sandy-sauna thingy that I actually enjoyed at the time since my hand was so swollen and painful. He then, you guessed it, left me alone for another 10 minutes.
After the machine shut itself off, there I sat. Alone in the stall-like room with no instruction which gave me time to look around - and plan my escape. I realized I didn't really see too much activity in the way of 'others' being healed and mended or even shown the road to recovery. Where was everybody? Why was this place empty? I already know the answer to that so what am I still doing here?
I wanted to walk, no run. And I began to gather my things and just then the older woman's instructor caught me and asked me where I was going. I said I was going to leave. But he said to be patient so I sat there because I thought this was the way physical therapy was or in my case, occupational therapy was.
The rest of that session was just as bad as the beginning and I obviously took my business elsewhere but not before realizing some hard truths. Healthy people sometimes have a tough time choosing between what's good for them and not. They sometimes make bad choices.
Unhealthy people have an even harder time when they're vulnerable. If my husband hadn't had a complete hip replacement, I would not have a point of reference when it comes to physical therapy. But I do. And when I told him my experience, he was floored and very direct. He said I will not be going back there. I didn't argue, I just made different arrangements to go to Optimum.
The difference, it turns out, was like night and day immediately and I knew that was all that mattered. I was not going to get well in the first place I went. Not because I didn't want to, but because I was literally in the wrong place. Eventually, I
might've gained some range of motion back, but not because the therapist gave me exercises, but because of my determination. That being said, we sometimes need help; good, godly help to get us through our rough patches. That's why I practice
Reiki. People need tender, loving care when they're suffering. They do not need to have insult added to injury. It's not necessary and it's completely unacceptable.
Find your voices and tell the systems that they are not working, if they're not. Tell them they are, if they are. Why not be honest? What have we got to lose besides ourselves?
I'm not willing to lose anything else. I've lost time. I've lost blood. I've lost control. I've lost range of motion. Sure, some of those things I cannot get back, but looking forward, I'll be more inclined to hang onto them a little longer, a little tighter...perhaps I'm a little smarter for having gone through such loses. I can only hope that I've learned a powerful lesson in pain, suffering, loss and let's not forget the most important...recovery.
There is recovery. There is healing. There is light and there is hope. Make sure your yoking up with that which resonates on the inside of you as well as the outside. I knew I was in the wrong place. My intuition was screaming. But God works all things together for me because I love Him and He ALLOWED that situation to occur to open my eyes even further to the business machine of healing that exists in this country.
I am not all about that. I am about giving comfort, giving assistance, giving in general to those that are in need physically, emotionally, mentally and spiritually. I've been on both sides. I've needed help. Let me rephrase that....I've needed some serious help. And I've received it. Thank God.
What are you in need of? Where are you looking for what you need? Do you have a good point of reference or are you shooting at the hip? Be careful. You deserve the best this life has to offer. Do not settle for less. If you know in your heart of hearts that something is off, trust me, something is off and that inner voice that warns you is more important to listen to than the one that talks you out of it and says '
meh, this is just how it is'. No. No it's not. You make it how it is.
I make it how it is. It's my reality. It's my choice. It's my body. It's my life. So, you're either part of the solution or part of the problem. Which will you be?
