Physical therapy, me?

So in my quest to be healthy, lose weight, get in shape, I do Zumba.  Or I did Zumba.  Somehow, some way, when I started a new class the first of October, I hurt my arm/shoulder.  It throbbed, it kept me up at night, I babied it and then suddenly it felt better.  Super Me decided to go back to life as I knew it.  I am not bright.

Super Storm Sandy was headed our way and our yard was full of leaves.  I decided B couldn't do yard work without me, so I raked and pulled tarps and picked up.  And 2 days later I was in agony.  My arm was worse than before.  I couldn't move it, couldn't shave my armpit, pick up a glass, work the mouse for my computer at work.  I gave in and went to my doctor who sent me immediately to physical therapy.  I was a PT virgin, never experienced it before.  And after my first visit wished I never had to go again.  This sweet, young girl tried to kill me.  She pulled and yanked and manipulated and made me sweat, tear up and almost pass out.   She gave me an exercise to do  4 times a day and I've done them.  This past weekend was tough though.  I had company this weekend and did my best to not let the arm get in my way of having fun.  Pulling my pants up with one hand, blow drying my hair, putting on deodorant all became great adventures.  I slept all weekend in B's Red Sox recliner.

But a strange thing happened on Monday.  My arm started feeling better....a lot better.  I was reaching across my desk with my right arm and it didn't hurt.  I shaved my armpit today!  And at my visit to PT today, my physical terrorist (that's what one of the ladies I work with calls physical therapist) told me that I was 10 times better.  She couldn't believe how much had changed in just 6 days.  So, what she thought might be a torn bicep has now moved to a tendon issue, thank goodness.  I'm still not looking forward to my next PT, but I'm hopeful that it will now be over sooner rather then later.  And no more Zumba for me for now!