Pondering with PJ: Directional Assistance, Past and Present

Posted on May 11, 2014


Needless to say, I have had many hours to contemplate the universe these past weeks. I have limitations, especially the one from the therapist who said, “absolutely, no lifting.” I was disheartened when she said I could put dishes away in the cupboard … one at a time. I’ve always had the notion that I should try to save energy, so haul as much as you can in one load and save trips. She put the “kibosh” on that!

I have a great therapist! She is very skilled and laughs at my jokes, the key components to a top notch therapist in my book.

At the beginning of every session she inquires as to what I have been up to the last couple days. I stopped her in her tracks recently when I told her I had helped The Spouse split wood the day before. She was in position to give me a hammerlock but stopped to inquire further.

“I hope you were running that lever with your ‘left’ hand,” she said ever so sweetly.

Even if she wasn’t right, I was in no position to tell her any different. There’s more proof that I’m not as dumb as I look!

I remember over two months ago when I made my first visit for therapy; she gave me homework. I didn’t expect that. She had me place my left hand on a countertop, take a step back, lean forward with the bad wing “dangling” in front of me. Then I had to sway back and forth in a “pendulum” motion, circular, sideways, and kitty-wompus.

Well, to show you how much I have progressed, I now hold onto a weight while going through the process. I graduated from no weight to a can of chicken noodle soup, to a can of Bush Beans and I’m hoping, Lord willing, a two-pound bag of brown sugar soon. There was a day when I would have tried for a “six pack” but those days are long gone!

I’ve been so sure of myself these past weeks I inquired, “So, I will probably be done with this business of therapy pretty soon, right?” What a crushing blow to my ego. I’m not getting off for good behavior.

Thinking back, I’m wondering if this is an old injury I received in the days of my youth on the Plains of Pleasanton, Foothills of Malcolm. I recall, as a youngster, needing occasional directional assistance which meant either parent grabbing me by the arm and with a scary motivational speech got me where I was supposed to be.

I can also remember just glimpses of when I was an early teenager and having a severe hearing loss when Dad would stand at the bottom of the stairway and yell at me to wake up ‘cause it was time to go hoe the 27-acre strawberry patch. Continued…

When I didn’t respond, the next thing I heard was his footsteps on the stairs and then felt his firm grasp as he grabbed my arm and rolled me out onto the floor. As I recall, that only had to happen once … but it could have been the start of the situation I’m in now. When I see him next time, I’ll inquire, however, he died in 1968, so I hope we don’t have that conversation soon!

As incentive, my doctor did tell me I could probably hoe by the end of May. I’m sure he never knew my dad, but I’m going to do some research and see if there was a brother I never knew about … much too coincidental!!!

As Usual, PJ

Pauline Jaquish is a retired editor, real estate associate broker, active community promoter and author of “Uncommon Sense.” She lives in the Bear Lake area and can be reached at pj646@centurytel.net.

Needless to say, I have had many hours to contemplate the universe these past weeks. I have limitations, especially the one from the therapist who said, “absolutely, no lifting.” I was disheartened when she said I could put dishes away in the cupboard … one at a time. I’ve always had the notion that I should try to save energy, so haul as much as you can in one load and save trips. She put the “kibosh” on that!

I have a great therapist! She is very skilled and laughs at my jokes, the key components to a top notch therapist in my book.

At the beginning of every session she inquires as to what I have been up to the last couple days. I stopped her in her tracks recently when I told her I had helped The Spouse split wood the day before. She was in position to give me a hammerlock but stopped to inquire further.

“I hope you were running that lever with your ‘left’ hand,” she said ever so sweetly.

Even if she wasn’t right, I was in no position to tell her any different. There’s more proof that I’m not as dumb as I look!

I remember over two months ago when I made my first visit for therapy; she gave me homework. I didn’t expect that. She had me place my left hand on a countertop, take a step back, lean forward with the bad wing “dangling” in front of me. Then I had to sway back and forth in a “pendulum” motion, circular, sideways, and kitty-wompus.

Well, to show you how much I have progressed, I now hold onto a weight while going through the process. I graduated from no weight to a can of chicken noodle soup, to a can of Bush Beans and I’m hoping, Lord willing, a two-pound bag of brown sugar soon. There was a day when I would have tried for a “six pack” but those days are long gone!

I’ve been so sure of myself these past weeks I inquired, “So, I will probably be done with this business of therapy pretty soon, right?” What a crushing blow to my ego. I’m not getting off for good behavior.

Thinking back, I’m wondering if this is an old injury I received in the days of my youth on the Plains of Pleasanton, Foothills of Malcolm. I recall, as a youngster, needing occasional directional assistance which meant either parent grabbing me by the arm and with a scary motivational speech got me where I was supposed to be.

I can also remember just glimpses of when I was an early teenager and having a severe hearing loss when Dad would stand at the bottom of the stairway and yell at me to wake up ‘cause it was time to go hoe the 27-acre strawberry patch.

When I didn’t respond, the next thing I heard was his footsteps on the stairs and then felt his firm grasp as he grabbed my arm and rolled me out onto the floor. As I recall, that only had to happen once … but it could have been the start of the situation I’m in now. When I see him next time, I’ll inquire, however, he died in 1968, so I hope we don’t have that conversation soon!

As incentive, my doctor did tell me I could probably hoe by the end of May. I’m sure he never knew my dad, but I’m going to do some research and see if there was a brother I never knew about … much too coincidental!!!

As Usual, PJ

Pauline Jaquish is a retired editor, real estate associate broker, active community promoter and author of “Uncommon Sense.” She lives in the Bear Lake area and can be reached at pj646@centurytel.net.

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