Maddening little victories

Today, while straining with nearly every muscle in my body to try to flex my right ankle, I was able to see movement in the pinky toe of my right foot.  This blows my mind on several levels.  It's a spark of hope, to be able to move any part of my right foot at all, and yet it enrages me to think of the monumental effort it takes to do that tiny little movement, when just a few weeks ago I could roll that ankle around in circles.  And oh yeah, freaking WALK with it.  

I did two slide transfers today, and that feels real good and all, but not as good as it would've felt if I could stand up for a few seconds afterward to correct the wedgie that sliding gives me.  I sit here and try to wiggle my toes, I'm staring at my foot and my whole body tenses up, and my brain is freaking out.  NOTHING'S HAPPENING, it screams at me.  I AM TALKING TO THE FOOT, AND IT'S LIKE IT'S NOT EVEN THERE.  (My brain talks in all-caps when it's on the verge of panicking.)  I find myself begging and berating my own body parts in my mind, not out loud because I don't want the therapists to think I'm completely crazy.  PLEASE MOVE, TWITCH, GIVE ME ANYTHING TO GO ON, PLEEEEASE, I'M TRYING SO HARD, WHY CAN'T YOU JUST MOVE YOU SONUVABITCH, DON'T YOU KNOW I'M TALKING TO YOU, STOP IGNORING ME DAMMIT!  

I know it's important to focus on every small achievement and gain, but I also have to acknowledge that this is really infuriating, and allow myself to deal with that rage sometimes.  My life has changed in ways I never imagined and can never go back to exactly what it was before, and the future is very uncertain.  It's only normal to feel anger and grief about that.