Sure, challenge your physical therapist, that's a good idea

It only stands to reason that if I got paired up with Dr. Bad Ass for this surgery, I also stumbled upon a physical therapist who is determined to rock my world. And in truth, it's exactly  what I was hoping for.

Everyone jokes that PT actually stands for pain and torture. My experience has been a little different. While there's no question I'm sore, the muscle work has actually felt good. I suspect that because of the way my hips and legs and back have deteriorated over time, none of those muscles in that area are working the way they should. So the stretching feels great. Until it doesn't.

What's surprised me is the intensity of the work, though. I have a core set of exercises: lifting my hips off the table, sliding my heel up to bend my knee, various leg lifts, calf raises, etc. But each day, Stefani, the physical therapist, adds something new -- a new exercise, or a little weight on the leg, or an extra set of reps. None of it is unbearable, and frankly, it keeps it interesting.

Plus, I've been antsy about the timing of this whole recovery. Patience is not a virtue of mine, and when my next appointment with Dr. Bad Ass was set for Nov. 19, I saw the second surgery being pushed into December, and that ain't cool. I mean, if that's what the recovery requires, so be it, but I'm determined to do everything I can to move that date up as much as possible and get on with my life. (Notice I didn't say get back to my life; I expect it to be different and better, not what it was before.) So I casually mentioned to Stefani -- joking, really -- that if she could get me into the next surgery before Thanksgiving, I'd send her flowers. We all laughed, and Mom and I left.

The next day -- only my third day of PT overall, mind you -- as I prepared to do some leg lifts, Stefani strapped on a 2-pound ankle weight. "Wow," I said. "You're not kidding around." She replied: "Hey, you gave me a goal, and I'm VERY goal-oriented."

I say: Bring it.

So I go three days a week, and on the other days, I do six exercises at home. And I'm sore, enough so that I almost went back to the Vicodin, but not quite. One of the complications is that it's hard to work one hip without working both, so my "good" leg -- the one that's doing most of the work right now but needs surgery in its own right -- is feeling the burn, too. That makes it a little harder to get around, but maybe it'll get that leg more ready for post-surgical recovery.

But even if not, I expect no quarter from the physical therapist.