My body bows against a string of pain.
There's no release, no arrow set to fly
to any target. "Give it one more try--
let's stretch this out-- let's see if we can gain
just one degree-- if I can take the strain--"
"Relax." I can't. The flexion's more than I
can take-- it hurts, but I'm too big to cry.
My courage flees, but stubbornness remains.
My doctor says the surgery went well.
I should get range of motion back, complete
if I work hard at rehab. But there's still
a lot of work to do-- a little hell
each day. No shortcuts; I can't cheat
just work, and pray, and be it as God wills.
Sunday, April 22, 2007
Physical Therapy
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
The bow-and-string metaphor really stuck with me—the idea of being held in tension with no release feels brutally honest. That daily “little hell” of rehab sounds familiar, even beyond medicine. It oddly reminded me of reading about physical therapy exercises for kids, where patience matters just as much as strength.
Post a Comment