It has been almost NINE months since my accident. In some ways it seems so long ago, but it doesn’t seem like it’s been almost a year. My original orthopedic told me I’d look back at my accident at Christmas and not even remember it had happened. However, 11 days before Christmas I had one final surgery and I was WELL aware that I had fractured my shoulder.
I wish I had written my blog back then because I would probably have some pretty gory pictures to show and some gruesome stories to go along with. One thing I do know, I’ve come a long way since then. Gone are the days of showering with a trash bag.
No more walking around like Frankenstein….
… and my motion has improved tremendously.
So what does all of this mean? Well, I’m officially finished with physical therapy. My physical therapist let me go today. It was kind of sad, because I’ve grown quite attached to her. Call me Kelly!
So maybe six months wasn’t long enough, but now nine months later, I can hardly tell I broke my shoulder and my wrist. I move, for the most part, normally and above all I’m happy.
In fact, I’m so happy, I could do a cartwheel (and now I can).