Initially, Dad refused to go to PT. He was frowning and was in a bad mood. No one wanted to wake him....until Mom called for me. Sigh! So I braved Dad's mood and pretty much woke him up to tell him that it was time for his physical therapy. And yes, he swore and got mad. I simply told him he had to go, that he needed to get ready. I told Aguila to call me when they were ready.
Half an hour later, I was still waiting! Sigh! Finally, Mom calls me and tells me Dad wanted to talk to me. I go to their bedroom and Dad asked me whether I was going to the doctor about therapy for MY back. I look at him and told him with a straight face that I would go IF and ONLY if he went to therapy that day, I'd go with him and see the doctor while he was at therapy.
And Dad got up and said he was going to get dressed. Aaargh! Hahahaha! At least he went to PT, right?!?
At PT, it was pretty much the same thing. I was smarter this time, though: I brought along my laptop so I could either scrap or work. I was pretty productive during the 2-hour session: I was able to do layouts for the office calendar. Now all I need are the quotes from St. Therese to complete them.
Oh, and yes, I did see the doctor. She told me my therapy would consist of ultrasound, heat pack and some exercises to strengthen my abs and back. Fine. I start on Friday.
At the rate I'm going, I'm lucky if I got some whole life insurance for myself. I may not feel old, but my body slowly breaking down keeps me thinking that I *am* getting old. Sigh!
Here's a layout of Dad when he turned 66. A little over a month before he had his latest stroke.
Click on the layout for credits.