ankle physical therapy

Ankle Sprains

My sister sprained her ankle in P.E. class a few weeks ago and I shadowed her at her most recent physical therapy appointment.

As her therapist did some soft tissue work, he asked me which plane of motion you work on first when treating an ankle sprain. Admittedly, it’s been a while since I shadowed in a clinic, but I remembered that moving in the sagittal plane causes the least aggravation. 

The sagittal plane at the ankle refers to pointing the toes/ankle towards the ceiling (termed dorsiflexion) and towards the floor (plantarflexion). It is important to regain range of motion progressively after an injury, but movement in the sagittal plane minimizes aggravation to the damaged lateral (to the side) soft tissue of the ankle.

Eventually, you work towards regaining motion in the frontal and transverse planes as well, as the tissue continues to heal so that functional movement can be obtained.

*All images are from Google images public searches*

DO NOT SIT LIKE A LADY

I learned something recently about how women are expected to behave that can actually cause them health problems. I’ve been having to go to physical therapy for my knees and ankle. I’ve also had spine and hip problems all of my life. My physical therapist had to explain to me that the way I was sitting, rising, standing, and walking was very bad for me, and for anyone concerned about the health of their hips, knees, and ankles. She instructed me on how to sit, rise, stand, and walk like a man. “LIKE A MAN.”

Apparently the way that women are taught to physically “act like a lady" is actually bad for their health! It’s hard on all of our human joints, especially for humans with wide hips and delicate ankles, aka for most humans of the female sex. Read that again. Let that sink in. The way that women have culturally been taught to physically exist is bad for their health. If women were to sit, rise, stand, and walk as men did they would extend their ability to do these things into old age, and recover from injuries in these areas more quickly.

  • Don’t cross your legs tightly when you sit: instead, keep your legs apart with each knee across from each hip point, or rest one ankle across the top of the other knee as if you were doing half of a criss cross apple sauce. 

  • Don’t daintily rise with one foot first and then the next: instead, keep your knees apart and put your weight balanced evenly through both legs as you rise.

  • Don’t stand with your legs crossed or your feet closely together, instead study how martial artists stand with one foot forward and one slightly away at an angle that promotes optimal balance. 

  • Don’t do a catwalk with one leg crossing before the other. Walk with your legs a bit apart, with even posture. Don’t try to hide your arms in weird, uncomfortable, demure poses if you don’t need to, when you can instead swing them naturally down at your sides for balance. Martial arts lessons help with learning to walk safely and healthily, too, I find.

Are you noticing a theme here? Knees apart. Balanced. Men learn these life hacks unconsciously by watching other men. Women tend to pick up mannerisms that make them look smaller and less threatening, but most of these feminine poses are not only dangerously off balance if someone bumps into them or attacks them, but they’re also APPARENTLY BAD FOR YOUR FREAKING BODY.

I’m in the process of retraining myself, and OH DEAR GODS DOES WALKING “CORRECTLY” BOOST YOUR CONFIDENCE. I feel safer and more secure just by walking in a more healthy manner “like a man.”

I hope this has been informative. I needed to tell someone, and I guess I also needed to rant at the memory of my grandmother instructing me on how to “sit and walk like a lady”. SCREW THAT. SIT WITH YOUR LEGS APART AND BE HEALTHY.


This was written in response to something my friend reposted, which you can read below in this hidden area, because I don’t usually do reposts with this journal:

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anonymous asked:

Rumbelle this is probably a bad time, but marry me?

It was her fault. It was all her fault.

If she hadn’t fallen off of the ladder then his ankle would have been fine and when he fell he would have been fine. But no. She HAD to dust the top shelves. And he HAD to come in. And she HAD to fall. And he HAD to catch her instead of just letting her hit the floor. She was healthy. It wasn’t that far of a fall. She would have been fine. But no instead he had to be the hero. Save her. Had to–

“Belle.”

Her head shot up, and she swallowed the lump in her throat as Dr. Whale stepped into the waiting room. She’d been the one they called when the incident happened. Gold didn’t have any living relatives besides his son, and all Belle knew was that they weren’t on speaking terms. Someone had broken into his shop. Gotten him with pepper spray. Ignoring that whole other can of worms, Gold had stumbled and fallen when his bad ankle tried to catch all of his weight. They’d called her when he got to the hospital, the town collectively knowing that it was Belle who had the best chance of calming Gold down, but also that she’d kill them if no one told her about it.

“Is he okay?” Belle asked instantly.

“He’s fine.” Whale said, but the look in his eye did little to alleviate Belle’s worry. “His ankle is shattered. It’s an old wound that never healed properly. It’s not looking good. He’ll need surgery.”

“Or what?”

“Or he’ll never be able to walk on it again, or at the very least not for a very long time.”

Belle nodded, numbness creeping down her fingertips. Surgery. That word had come up in conversation before. He hated the thought of surgery.

“But the surgery will make him better?” She said, trying to think logically.

“It will give him his best chance of it. It’s going to be a long process. Lots of physical therapy. He may always need the cane but…”

She nodded. “Can I see him?”

“Yeah. Of course.”

Whale led her through the sterile halls to the room he was being kept in until the next step was decided. It was too white. Too unnatural. Like its own kind of prison. That was another thing they had in common on their long list. They both hated hospitals.

“Belle.” She heard Gold breathe before she rounded the curtain to see him.

He was layed back, ankle propped up. The joint was swollen and miscolored, and Gold looked so vulnerable with only the hospital gown. But he was looking at her. He was pale and in pain but he was breathing.

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