Friday Night, Two Months Later

It's two months today since my accident, which didn't occur to me until I was at my physiotherapy appointment tonight.

(photo credit: Chiropractic Dubai, via the Internet)

The good news is, things are going well.  My car, my laptop and my eyeglasses were replaced quickly and easily and fully covered by insurance.  My medical benefits from work have covered all of my physio appointments to date.  My bruises have pretty much healed, although you can still see faint marks where the worst ones were on my shins and the hematomas under the surface remain to remind me that these things take time to go away completely but at least it doesn't hurt any more if I have to kneel down for anything. 

I've been going for physio on a regular basis - three times a week initially, then twice, then once a week until today when I was told I could start coming once every 2 weeks unless I need to come in sooner than that.  To be honest, I'm looking forward to not going at all.  Don't get me wrong, I'm very grateful for the help that physiotherapy has provided, it just seems to be getting harder to take myself back there over and over again. My body always feels a little battered afterwards and the aches and pains come back for a day or two until things settle down again.  I know it's good for me, I know it's part of the healing process, a "necessary evil" if you will, but I still rebel against it.  I'm guessing that's part of the mental healing process, working through the anger and resentment of being a victim of a car accident, having to deal with the consequences of an unexpected injury.  I resent being there, resent having to lie face down on a massage table for 45 minutes t a time and be poked and prodded and attached to electrodes and rubbed non-too-gently with an ultrasound device.  I'm not keen on the electro therapy, the electrical surges pulsing on my neck can be annoying and even painful at times.  The ultrasound therapy isn't any fun either - I'm tired of having to wipe gooey gel off my neck and out of my hair.  I'm just glad it will all be over soon.

I know, I know, I shouldn't complain.  Lots of people have it a lot worse than me, I should be glad I got off as easily as I did and most of the time, I am.  I'm just feeling the cranky right now.