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Show 14 I am in the hospital. I have only ever been in a hospital, and momentarily at that, to give birth to my children. But now there is concern with the rate of my increasing symptoms and the decision was made to put me in the hospital on a week-long regimen of massive steroids. Massive steroids and physical therapy. The physical therapist is pushing against my heel in hopes that my leg will bend at the knee and readily fold towards my chest. We are both hoping in vain. The knee does not bend even a little with the pressure he is applying from his muscled arm. "Nope! Not yet." He is being cheerful for my benefit. "I've never seen spasticity like this," he is saying, now placing the heel of my foot against his shoulder. He is leaning his body weight against the heel of my stiffened leg, pushing upward against my calf with his hands, hoping this stronger method will yield the needed flexibility. My knee is bending just one inch and grabs again. Then another inch, as he is leaning more and more of his body weight against me. I feel myself being pushed into the pillows. Inch by reluctant inch, my knee is bending until it is finally resting against my chest, beneath my chin. But now it must be brought back straight again. For this task, he places one hand against the muscles of my thigh, just above the knee, and with the other, he is grasping around the arch of my foot for leverage. He pulls. |