I haven't been going with Robb to his current physical therapy clinic. I'm busy at work, and cannot spare the time to drive him out there three times a week.
The insurance company (bless their hearts) has been providing a car service. Robb gets picked up at the house and driven the fifteen or so miles to the therapists. Unfortunately, the car he usually rides in makes him car-sick almost immediately. (Prior to the accident, Robb did most of the driving when the two of us went somewhere together. Reading maps doesn't make me queasy, and I relished the car-knitting.) Robb gets dropped off at the therapist, and the driver keeps the meter running for the hour and a half visit.
Yesterday, he was using the therapy gym -- not working directly with his physical therapist-- and after going through some of his usual exercise routine, he got on the treadmill for the first time without supervision.
He gradually worked up to what felt to him like a brisk run. (It was about 2 miles per hour) He managed to do about 15 minutes of walking before fatigue and discomfort stopped him. Afterwards he told me he was distraught over how short a distance he had covered before needing to rest. He'd gone about 3/10ths of a mile in that 15 minutes. Robb was feeling like he's made no progress recently since this is exactly the distance and speed he's considered his limit for months now.
I reminded him that he always takes short rests when he walks and did not have the opportunity to do this on the treadmill. Also, whenever he leaves our house to walk anywhere it's all downhill; and he doesn't usually tire himself out by exercising before walking. When we considered all the factors, we began to see that this probably represents real progress after all. Three months ago, I couldn't have imagined him doing all those things in the course of a day.
This is just another reminder for us of how gradual this process really is and how important it is to keep the proper perspective.