PT = Pretty Tiring

Yesterday morning I had my first physical-therapy session since the oophorectomy.

Beyond lymphedema prevention, we're now working on my body mechanics. This probably should not have been a big surprise, but after everything it's been through—three surgeries, a course of radiation, and the mucking about that had to be done to make way for my faux breast—my poor upper-left quadrant is having issues.

Although my range of motion is pretty stellar, the whole area is very tight (thank you, scar tissue!), and now I naturally tend to kind of hunch over. (Hence the stretching exercises that I can't do for another week or so.) And the tightness and hunching haven't been doing my shoulder any favors.

My physical therapist figured out the shoulder problem right before the surgery, so yesterday was the first chance she had to do something about it.

What did she do?

She worked under my shoulder blade.

I bet you didn't even know that was possible.

I didn't.

And my shoulder blade certainly didn't.

We had a lot of "deep breath in" and "exhale" going on, which I'm sure was intended to make the whole thing much more comfortable for me.

I can't say it was all that effective. (The deep breathing, that is.)

But I could tell that my shoulder was loosening up, and that was good.

Still, the whole experience took something out of me.

Three hours, to be exact. That's how long I was asleep after I unexpectedly conked out on my parents' couch later in the day.