Therapy is excruciating. My therapist's personality is light-hearted and jovial. The treatment room is an open area allowing for patients to interact with one another. His personality and approach to his work create a happy and enjoyable atmosphere. The other therapist and staff are kind and gracious. In the treatment room, there is often much laughter. And under different circumstances, time spent in the treatment room would be much enjoyed. However, my therapy primarily consists of the therapist moving my hand up and down, side to side, and back and forth from one eye-watering pain point to another. Sometimes it hurts so bad I cannot carry on a conversation. Sometimes the pain is so intense I cannot remain seated. While the therapist holds and manipulates my hand, I wiggle and squirm every other part of my body, trying to endure the insufferable pain.

We spend so much effort trying to avoid pain and discomfort; why would I willfully go to a place where I know I will experience pain? My therapist was honest about what therapy would require; knowing this, I still make appointments, willfully attend my appointments, and even gladly pay for the services. Each session is painful and difficult, yet at the end, I genuinely thank the very person who has caused me to suffer for the past hour. To willfully pursue pain and discomfort is counterintuitive. To continue to pursue pain and discomfort is contrary to our normal avoidance of such things. So why have I been going to physical therapy and intend to continue to do so? I do so because I have faith that my therapist has the knowledge and ability to bring healing and restoration to my wrist. I have confidence that though he presently inflicts pain, his work has a purpose and will result in my wrist being able to move and bend as it did before the break. I put my hand into his, trusting that as he bends my wrist well beyond what is comfortable, he is working for my good and betterment.

Cell service in my office is spotty, and my calls are often dropped. Sometimes when this happens, I am unaware until I end a sentence and wait for the other person to respond and only hear silence. Not sure if they are in thought, still waiting on me to say something else, or no longer on the line, I ask, "are you still there"? I know that I have been talking to myself when this question is met with more silence.

You may have been wondering if I am still here. It has been over a month since I have written a blog post or sent out an email. My lack of activity has not been for lack of desire but rather circumstances not entirely of my choosing.