Yep, the big leftie got the green light to throw on Thursday. So, after seeing the surgeon again (who was so proud of his work), he was given the permission to start throwing. Let's just say that his energy and excitement was palpable and the people in Eastern Europe could hear his whoopin and hollarin'....a happy, happy, happy guy....
And so, before going to PT to begin the process of throwing, I wanted to sit down with him and go over my thoughts. You know what thoughts...mom thoughts....caution....premonitions and so on.....
yes, I had anxiety that perhaps the kid would not be able to throw and that his aim would be off. I knew that the velocity would be down, but I was worried that he would overthrow and perhaps hurt his arm. I was also concerned that he would expect too much and therefore would be disappointed in his initial performance. I was worried that he no longer had his skills and therefore actually would not pitch again. I was worried about global warming, ObamaCare, and whether or not the little ten year old boy who sang Mariachi on America's Got Talent would move to the next round...come on America...vote for the kid.
It was time for Buddy to take his arm out for a test run. His appointment was at 6pm and I was sure to be there. In fact, I decided to work out at the same time so that I could witness the surgically improved arm. As he entered the room 40 minutes before his actual appointment (was there a doubt that he would be late?), the look on his face was pure joy. He began with his stretching then cardio, then arm exercises then it was time. At precisely 6pm, dad walked in to witness the first pitches of the season. The therapist first stretched his arm out while he was on the table and then it was time......the big leftie picked up his glove and placed it on his right hand....the therapist then had Buddy kneel....that's right...kneel....He slowly pulled his arm back under medical supervision....yep...good technique...OK...ready, aim, fire!
He pulled his arm back...no pain....he let a ball fly...no pain....the ball hit the backboard...bang...then another...no pain...another...no pain...once again...no pain....the balls began to fly...big smiles...happiness filled the room as dad, the other patients and therapists as well as the secretary watched Buddy throw balls for the first time since he was shut down in February. It was a great moment...like the first time that he walked as a baby. We clapped and cheered then considered celebrating with a special dinner and cake. This never happened because he had two more hours of exercises to do and I was not celebrating anything at 9pm. Remember, BPM is getting older.....
Overall, the surgery, post op, rehab, physical therapy, and patience were worth the effort. He was back and throwing at a higher velocity than when he pitched in the fall. Oh joy...oh happiness...the world is a beautiful place and we are happy people....now for the news....yep..."the news"....
The "news" that was delivered to me by the PT's secretary was two short sentences: "Your insurance has run out. This is the last visit that they will reimburse." OY! The hard work has to continue under the direction of the therapist. We can't stop now. No way. He needs to watched closely for pain, stretching, and technique. Is this a cruel joke, 'cause I am not laughing. He has at least three visits per week until the end of August...if I 'cipher correctly....this adds up to beau coup bucks...
Ok, so, if I don't drive my car...no boxes of wine....no movies...get rid of cable....mow my own lawn....and eat peanut butter sandwiches on toast for dinner, this can be done. After all, isn't that what I signed up for when he decided he wanted to take his arm to the Major Leagues? The little sacrifices are worth it. Are people going to understand? Who cares?....besides, if he wanted to be in ballet, I would send him to New York. If he wanted to be a park ranger, I would send him to the Rockies for training. If he wanted to be a pastry chef (sigh), I would send him to France to apprentice with the top pastry chefs in the world. So what is different about this goal and passion? Absolutely nothing!
That's what it is all about....family...we do for each other because we love one another. I can rest when he has achieved his goals. Likewise, Tink pursues her dreams and passions and I am there to support her too. Whew....what if I had 6 kids like my parents? They get six thumbs up for the sacrifices that they made. And as time goes on, my own children will sacrifice for their children, my grandchildren....then so on and so on.....
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