Loose Ends

I still had the speech therapist test coming up, but now I was having Zach trying to help me find a cheap home gym and a treadmill so I could start training for the mile walk. I got back on my lawnmower, not only to try to mow the yard but I started mowing trails in my upper pasture for more walking options and a change in scenery.

Now that we had moved the walks to our upper pasture (yard), the walk started with a mild climb and a much longer walk with no resting points. A nice added effect was seeing the pure enjoyment from the dogs on the walks, running and exploring their territory. To see them enjoy the walks so much became a drug for me, I truly loved my walks. Our acreage, even though only five acres, had become our sanctuary.

Zach took me to the dreaded speech therapist for the hour-long test.  There was an interview, followed by an hour-long written test that was read to me. I can’t remember how many questions, but it seemed like at least 100. All I know is that I only missed two, she seemed happy with the results and reviewed the two I missed; she said she wasn’t worried and sent me on my way. All that worry over nothing. I think there were only a couple questions on the test that involved math which I got correct. All I could do was laugh. I was so tired of tests and trying to prove I was ok. I wasn’t even all that relieved, I was just done with it.

When we were done with the test, we looked around town and found the cheapest treadmill we could and bought it.  Zach had also found a pulley machine that was being sold for almost nothing and we made plans to pick it up.

When we got home there was only one more formal obstacle left, the psych test.  So, figuring that I had put it off long enough, I called the number they had given us at the rehab center.  The lady that answered was having a bad day and seemed very irritable on the phone. After explaining who I was and why I called, she asked what I expected out of this.

“I answered I don’t know, I don’t even know why they think I must see a psychologist.”

She responded, “You don’t have to see one but many people that have gone through a traumatic experience find it helpful to talk to someone.”

I thought to myself, I have family to talk to, so I asked the question “I don’t have to?”

She replied, “No!”

 I responded, “Ok, have a nice day,” and hung up the phone. Now looking back, if she had seemed more pleasant on the phone, I might have played along and probably should have but again, I was so done with testing, and this seemed like just another test. Now I could focus on training for the mile walk