It was back to Wythenshawe Hospital yesterday for my first physiotherapy session to get my ankle working as it should be. I wasn’t sure what to expect, except I had heard these physiotherapists are tough! Mine, Gary, came out right on time to find me. He took me in a little cubical to chat. I’d thought he’d want to look at the foot but, once he’d found I was relatively mobile, he was more interested in how I was moving. He made me walk along a long corridor while he followed me to see how I moved. We ended up in the hospital gymnasium which looks like a high end gymnasium you’d pay a lot to belong to in Cheshire but without all the people checking themselves out in mirrored walls in state of the art Lycra. 

Gary immediately had me on an exercise bicycle set at a level so I could just feel it and the muscles in my ankle were working. Then there were stretches that pulled my ankle muscles in various ways and then some work on the treadmill. He made me stretch to the point that it kind of hurt. It’s a ‘no pain, no gain’ scenario I suppose. Once he was happy that I was OK with the exercises, he printed out an exercise schedule and let me go. I can go to my local gym to do the cycle and the treadmill and the stretches are any time I fancy. 

I left feeling good. That lasted until I got home and found that my ankle, unused to exercise at that level, had completely seized up! It’s going to happen like that until my ankle gets used to the new regime it seems. Over the evening it loosened up but after two hours watching Mary Berry explore Scone Palace in Scotland and last nights cliffhanging  episode of Peaky Blinders my ankle was as stiff as a board. It felt better this morning.

Another new pair of shoes arrived today. This time some Goodwin Smith Dark Wine Brogues. Ironic as I can’t get my left foot into them yet. But they are an incentive to get fit. On Monday I’m booked in at my gym with a personal trainer, Jimmy, so he can be sure that what I’m doing at the gym doesn’t work against with what Gary wants at the hospital. Somehow I’ve acquired two personal trainers! I could be a Khardashian. 

The shoes arrived by special delivery. I’d just about put them back in the box and the postman arrived with another parcel for me. This time it was some Christmas boxer shorts and PJs for me from, the company I support because it supports research into male specific cancers. PJs for Christmas Eve and boxers for Christmas Day. 

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