A letter to Present and Future ME

Dear January 2016 ME,

Two and a half years ago, you took this photo…

This is what you wrote to go with the photo…

“This was a tough one for me. I'm a bit self conscious about my broad back, all those freckles, and the birthmark. But, this photograph symbolizes how I used to take my body for granted. I have frozen shoulder, and I cannot reach back to hook my bra with my other hand, or use it for many other "simple", everyday tasks I took for granted. I vow to appreciate all the amazing things my body can do, and to take better care of it.”

You worked for a long time to get mobility back in your right shoulder (5 months, I think?). It was a long, tough, and painful process and you said you were going to throw yourself a party when you didn’t have to go back to the place where you had therapy twice a week with Jason.

There were days you thought you would never stop being in pain. There were days you thought you would never be able to move your right shoulder the way you wanted to, but you did it. Here’s the thing, though. There never was a party. You just went right back to the way things were before you got a frozen shoulder. You just went right back to taking your body for granted. You thought you would never have to go back there again.

Well, guess what, present ME? Last week you went back. You filled out the ridiculous amount of paperwork. You filled out the pain questionnaire that you always take too long to finish. You got Jason again as your physical therapist. You’re doing some of the same exercises, only this time it is your left shoulder/arm that needs strengthened. This time the official term isn’t “frozen shoulder”, (it’s bone spurring and tendonitis), but the result is the same. Pain, the inability to move in certain ways, daily exercises, and therapy three times a week with Jason.

I remember years ago, when my grandfather was in his early 90’s, going with my mom to visit him at the hospital. We were told he was in therapy and we could go and watch, so we did. I watched my grandfather, who had always been both mentally and physically tough, struggle to force his body to do the things the therapist wanted him to do. I watched as he winced in pain, but dutifully completed the exercises and I was almost moved to tears. I wondered why he was putting himself through it. Was it just a desire to please the therapist, or did he truly just want to see what his old body was still capable of doing? I vowed to take better care of my body that day and start exercising. But, guess what present ME? You didn’t.

So, here you are, back in the same place you were two and a half years ago. Your body is obviously telling you once again that you need to change your ways. You’re not getting younger, or stronger, or more flexible, or in better shape. You will do the exercises. You will go to therapy. You will push through the pain to the other side where you can once again move your left shoulder and arm in all the ways you need to. You will do all these things because you have to. You have no choice if you want to get your mobility back.

But, future ME? Once you have that mobility back, please don’t feel like you’ve won. Please don’t feel like you are done. Please keep stretching, exercising, pushing your body to do more. Because here is the sad truth, future ME… you will probably go back to that place again, maybe with Jason, or maybe with another therapist. But, maybe you can make the times in between therapy longer, if you start taking better care of this body. If you finally start appreciating all the amazing things you can do with it. And future ME? Every time you think you can’t exercise, or don’t feel like pushing yourself, I want you to think of your 90 year old grandfather. I want you to hear his voice, saying “If I can do it, Jenny, so can you”.