Welcome to hell

Tuesday last I had a functional capacity assessment- with the acronym of hell. Basically I spent several hours with a physical therapist, doing tasks that imitate a work day. Instead of typing on a computer though, I was flipping wooden discs upside down, over and over as fast as I could. First the right hand, then the left. Unscrewing nuts from bolts was particularly fascinating, that had to be done for 5 minutes at a time, also over and over. Then he handed me a hand-grip with a pressure gauge on it, to check my hand strength. Over and over. After the first hour I was so tired I could barely stand, but we just kept going. Walking with 5 pound weights, then 10. My hip joints were on fire, my knee kept popping and spitting at me.

Then we went to the really fun stuff- pushing a sled with handles across the floor. It simulated pushing a grocery cart, forward, then backward. The all time favorite was the stairs... anyone that knows me understands how darn much fun that brings into my life. We finished about 1:30, I don't know, I was almost unconscious by that time. I cleverly shuffled out the door, luckily I'd brought my trusty cane. David bought me a taco at the Bell, and I fell asleep, and slept the 2 1/2 hours home. Crawled into bed, slept some more. Couldn't eat, too tired.

The good news is that when he called to check on me the next day, he said his report would give physical proof that I'm not ready to work 40 hours a week. Seeing that I was hoping I just wouldn't have to wake up on , Wednesday, I think he's right. I love to stay active and feel useful, but my active is a whole lot different than it used to be. Guess going 90 miles an hour for so long has taken it's toll, and the Lord wants me to slow down and 'smell the roses'.