Write about: rehab.
Really enjoyed a day away from working in the garden. I hung out with Max around the house this morning (which involved a lot of playing with his tools and hitting a balloon around - two of his favorite things) while Kat was with her book club.
After lunch we picked up Kat's brother and drove out to visit the owl rehabilitation center just north of Oliver for their yearly open house event. We're hoping to make this an annual visit, as it's a pretty cool experience.
Since it didn't take too long to see everything, I wasn't feeling ready to return home. So we drove just a little further and went for a walk at Vaseux Lake. It's one of my favorite areas to visit around here and I'd still like to find a way to get there more often.
"One more time. Come on, you can do it."
Matt, my physical therapist, was relentless. He was always pushing, pushing, pushing. Finding my limits and then stretching them further. I was in too much misery to have been able to check, but I'm fairly certain he was smiling the whole time.
That bastard loved his job just a little too much.
"Don't give up on me now. You got this. I know it. You know it. That cute girl who lives across the hall from you knows it."
I could only shake my head at that last one. I was pretty sure she didn't even know I existed, despite having moved in nearly six months prior. But then, I was also pretty sure I'd never walk again after the car accident.
Now look at me. Sure I walk with a limp, but I walk. With time that nagging reminder of what happened will pass. That's the sort of confidence Matt beat into me. The sort of belief in myself and what I'm capable of.
I'm limping today. Next month I'll be walking like a normal. Give me another few months and I'll be running. You can bet on that.
Look at me now, people. Look at how far I've come.
And still I have nightmares of my time in that room with Matt.