Yesterday was my first day of physical therapy for my broken ankle. I've never broken anything before, and never had physical therapy before. I'm a real newbie to this whole scene.It requires trust. And not simply trust beyond my instincts, but also trust AGAINST my instincts.Presenting me with a walker, reading the doctor's protocol, the physical therapist told me to put 25 percent of my weight on the ankle. I pestered her with questions. How do I know it's 25 percent? How will I know I'm not putting too much pressure on it?Behind it all, of course, was the unthinkable question--what if the slightest amount of pressure breaks the ankle again? How can I trust my ankle--my own bones to support me? And how can I trust this person--this stranger-encouraging me to fight against all my own instincts to baby the ankle, to let it live indefinitely in security in fluffy socks encased in a protective boot?But on some level, I know she knows what she's doing. So I do need to fight my own instincts--to stop over-protecting it, to put some weight on it, to begin move. It's the only way back to "normal" --to wholeness.Bone grows, stronger, apparently, with some stress.Okay. But I still don't like it.
