[Fracture Purgatory #15] My First Rehab. A Fateful Encounter with a Handsome Physical Therapist.

24 days since the fracture.

His name is, Physical Therapist

Finally, it is the first day of rehabilitation (officially, rehabilitation). I headed to the hospital with a pounding heart.

After checking in at the reception, I was directed to the rehabilitation room on the 3rd floor and took the elevator. When I submitted the paper with my reception number to the rehab reception desk, I was told to wait in the waiting room in front of me to be called.
In the waiting room, there were several other patients sitting in chairs, likely those who had appointments at the same time as me. Looking at them, none of them seemed to be wearing anything like the brace I was, so I couldn't tell what was wrong with them.

After sitting in a chair and waiting for a few minutes, when the appointment time arrived, staff members came out of the rehab room and called the patients in the waiting room to take them in.
Then, one staff member called my name.

When I answered, he came quickly to my side and introduced himself.
“I’m [Name], and I’ll be in charge of you starting today. It’s going to be tough, but let’s work hard together.”
He was a very refreshing, handsome young man who looked to be in his mid-20s. I didn't think, “Tch, a guy?” even for a second (laughs).
Jokes aside, this encounter was a fateful meeting with the man who would become my partner in the long, long battle of rehabilitation, and a good friend, whose presence would be deeply etched into a page of my life.

He, the one who would be helping me with rehab, is in a profession called a “physical therapist.” Physical therapist—it was the first time I had heard the term. Since I had no connection to it until now, I had never even thought about the qualifications. He told me that he had studied at university, obtained his national license as a physical therapist, and that this was his fourth year at this hospital since graduating.

I sat down when I was guided to a bed. At the surrounding beds, other patients were receiving rehabilitation.
“First, let me explain a few things.”
The physical therapist crouched down in front of me and began his explanation while operating a laptop. I was impressed on my own that this posture of explaining from a lower eye level than the person he was talking to meant that physical therapists probably also study psychology and have mastered the demeanor to put patients at ease.
By the way, when I clink glasses with a woman, I always make sure my glass is lower than hers. Please feel free to use this as a reference (?).

A Distant Goal and Adult Composure

The explanation began with the same content I had heard from the receptionist the other day.
・My rehab is 40 minutes per session, so 2 units (1 unit = 20 minutes).
・The period during which I can receive rehab is a maximum of 150 days, or 5 months.
・A pre-rehab medical examination is mandatory once every two weeks.
・As for how the rehab proceeds, target values are set, such as “this movement to this degree by [Date],” so I will work hard aiming for that.
・There is a consultation with my attending physician once a month to check on progress.

After finishing the explanation, he added at the end,“The goal for your full recovery, [Name], is four months from now.”

…Four months!? It takes that long!?
I had completely underestimated what rehabilitation was. I had thought that I would be back to normal after going two or three times over the course of about a month, so I was surprised by the four-month timeline, which meant I would use up almost the entire period I was eligible for rehab.
Internally, I was in a panic, thinking, “No way, seriously!?” but he was younger than me. So, I coolly replied, “I see. That takes quite a while, doesn't it.”

Rehab Debut

“Well then,” and with that, rehab began immediately.
“However, since the bone hasn't knit together yet, we actually can't move it much today. The first goal is 90 degrees in the forward direction by one week from now, so this is just to check if it can reach that far.”
I don't know how long it takes for bones to knit, but since it had been less than a month since the surgery, I could imagine that it would indeed still take time.

I removed the brace with practiced hands. Then, I was prompted to lie on the bed on my back.
“Alright, I’m going to move it slowly.”
The physical therapist grabbed my wrist and began to lift my arm in an arc. Even though I was allowed to move it up to 90 degrees, I wasn't yet permitted to move it with my own strength, so having someone else move it like this is called “passive exercise.”

My arm went up, up, and was lifted straight to 90 degrees as if pointing to the heavens. I felt a little strain on my shoulder, but there was no pain.
“It went up without any problems. That’s the first step cleared.”
The physical therapist lowered my arm back to the bed slowly and clapped his hands together.
He also gave me homework for next time: since the muscles around my shoulder are stiff from not being moved, I should try massaging them a little with my left hand.

“That’s all for today (laughs). As for next time, since you’ve cleared the goal for one week from now, is one week from now okay for an appointment? Regarding your work schedule…”
I replied, “Oh, I still have my job, but I’ve already decided to quit soon, so any time is fine. For better or worse, the timing of this injury was perfect.”
Hearing that, the physical therapist smiled and said, “I see. Well, your rehab will probably be tough, so it might be good that you can focus on it.”
That smile seemed to tell me that he could “see everything” in the future vision that I couldn't see.

40 minutes passed, and after thanking the physical therapist who saw me off with a refreshing smile, saying, “Well then, I’ll see you next week,” I left the rehab room.
It seems the cycle runs with 5 minutes between the end of my 40-minute rehab and the next patient’s appointment time, so the time is managed strictly. I got into the elevator with a patient who had received rehab at the same time.

The payment (rehabilitation fee) was a little over 1,100 yen. No medicine was prescribed, and it was cheaper than a regular doctor's visit, but judging by the physical therapist's tone, it seems I will be coming quite frequently.
Thinking about the unexpected medical expenses that would arise from here on out, I thought for a moment, “Maybe I messed up the timing of quitting my job.”

“…No, it’s no use thinking about it now.”

~~ To be continued ~~

I hope that by reading this article, more people will feel inclined to gently offer a helping hand when they see someone struggling with an injury.
And above all, I would be happy if this serves as a reference for those in a similar situation to mine and helps to alleviate even a little of their anxiety.