A gentle giant named Jeff met us at the Physical Therapy clinic, and even provided us with the end of the golf match and the local news, via the tv set in the room. Jeff has degrees from Ferris and Grand Valley, so he felt right at home with us. He first put a heated pad on my shoulder, then had me lie down. He began to gently move my arm around, finally working up to moving it above my head (a place it hasn't gone voluntarily in some time). He told me I'd be sore and bruised, but by Monday, I'd probably start feeling better.
We're all concerned with the new storm coming in, so he gave me exercises to do if we couldn't make it in tomorrow.
I got the Darvocet refilled before we went to therapy, so here's hoping that I won't be needing it soon. I don't like taking any substance with a potential for addiction. It's too easy for people in my family to get addicted to things. Food. Pills. Alcohol. Sports.
Meanwhile, I'm going to try to get some work done before I give in and head for bed.
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