Cat Burglar Therapy

And now, as John Cleese, aka Monty Python used to say, for something completely different: Cat Burglar Therapy.

Back decades ago when I was firmly convinced that my future lay amidst adoring throngs along Broadway, I paid a lot more attention to choreography. Even back then in high school nothing would bring down the director’s wrath more quickly than an actor standing woodenly, gazing sheepishly out past the footlights with no idea where they were going next. Somebody had neglected “blocking” which is the fine art of moving actors around a stage set in a manner that not only seemed natural, but also enhanced the visual appeal of the performance.

Alright, now take a couple of conceptual leaps with me now.  If you have had the time to read back a few posts you know that soft socks, polished hardwood floors and an ill-timed late night call to the BR tossed me on my butt, resulting in a compression fracture in that same butt area. 

  

OK, leap number two, in addition to wearing a back brace designed by the Marquis d’Sade and doing exercises under the tutelage of some of his disciples, I am catching up on my ongoing mystery novels binge. Hey, there has to be a silver lining somewhere.

OK, leap number three. In the course of this reading jag I have become reacquainted with two characters.  Actually two versions of the same character who play on different teams. One is the cat burglar whom we often encounter slipping in and out of the shadows surrounding a posh mansion in Bel Air or the Hamptons or Mayfair. And, second, our cat burglar is being cautiously shadowed by an equally mysterious figure dressed all in black. Depending upon the narrative one is the protagonist and the other the antagonist. It is not always clear which is which.  But that is not the point.What is important is the manner in which they move about the environment through which we follow them. They glide, moving silently, dark shadows moving with infinite grace, lit perhaps only by the uneven glow of a cloud-streaked moon.

And now leap number four which hopefully brings us full circle and home to healing.  A realization I came to today, while swinging a weighted ankle back and forth, is that a vital objective in my physical therapy is to rewire my brain and the various appendages it controls. Maybe re-habituate or reacquaint are better words, as the object is to reacquaint the brain with all the un- or subconscious actions it controls.

And to me that means “blocking.”

The idea is to “block” the major pathways in your life, similar, according to some things I have read, to the process blind folks go through. X number of steps from the bed to the BR, Y to front door, etc. But in cat burglar therapy the objective is not simply to get from A to B, but rather to “cat burglar” your way from A to B,C,D, etc., until you can retrain your brain to once more guide you gracefully through your world.

I have run this idea past both my physical and occupational therapist (the difference between which I have yet to discern) and both said, “Hmm. That’s interesting. I never thought of it that way.” Neither seemed to dismiss it out of hand. So I will continue to play this little head game as I progress through my therapy.

But please heed this important word of warning. Remember as you seek to move cat burglar-like, gracefully from place to place I AM IN THERAPY BECAUSE A FALL IN SMOOTH SOCKS ON SLICK FLOORS CAUSED THE FALL AND INJURY THAT MADE THE THERAPY NECESSARY. SO WEAR SHOES WITH TACKY SOLES - GYM SHOES OR SOMETHING SIMILAR - LIKE THOSE HOSPITAL SOCKS WITH GUMMY DOTS ON THE SOLES. PICK YOUR FEET UP AND PUT THEM DOWN CAREFULLY.   We may all enjoy watching Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers move gracefully across our various screens, but we aren’t there yet!