I’m navigating my way thru PT. It’s not really high on anyone’s “to do” list, but the reality is at some point in time we all have to survive it. My past experience with PT was boring, I hated it. Even though I needed it, I still hated it.
Fast forward to this PT experience. M and T are my therapists. Mostly M because I’m super special and I can’t see just anyone, but T is qualified too. Try not to be jealous.
Here’s the thing. I’m pretty sure they are both idiots. Not in the inept sense, but in the personality department. Naturally they make a perfect fit for me because I am an overgrown child, and a complete moron too. I’ve always been this rediculous personality that loves to laugh and I’m lucky to have them.
Let’s take a walk through a typical day at PT shall we.
Today I see M. She tells me she was mentally planning some great exercises for me on her commute in. I look at her with dead eyes as she demonstrates how a functional person performs this move. Balance one foot on this rounded surface, do a one legged squat whilst having your other leg out to the side. Oh, piss off M, really?? Then I thank God I didn’t eat beans last night.
She pushes out a forced smile like she’s consipated while performing this move then and hollers “You’re gonna love it” as she walks away.
Next up I get to do some superman moves on the bosu ball. This seems easy enough but really the focus is balance here. See the thing is I don’t want to fall completely forward on my forehead (and I’ve had some close calls). The last thing I need is to explain away the rug burn carpet stamp on my face. This is the money maker right here, and we’ve got to protect it. Besides, no one will buy that story no matter how hard you sell it.
Then M starts spitting directions at me. Literally spitting. See the thing is she had a retainer and would always have trouble pronouncing words and not spitting on us slow to get away
victims patients. She knows it, I know it and I also love that she herself made fun of it. You see, we are kindred spirits. So I squeegee off my face and head to the next torture zone.
This whole time T has been working with Mr. A. Most people moan and grunt through the painful process that is PT. I tell you Mr. A not only groans, moans and grunts here. He keeps praying to Jesus. I can assure you I’ve been there too. Newsflash: He’s not coming to save your ass. In fact he’s laughing at that “man pain” you’re having. Those leg lifts may feel like burning syphilis but you’re not gonna die. Man up, it’s embarrassing.
So I’m face down on this table after I do my leg lifts. My leg lifts that didn’t bring me to Jesus mind you. Amazing right!?
I finish my arm moves when M bops over again. Why does she keep coming back!!? Why is she doing this to me?
Alas, M is here and this time with 2 – 2 pound weight balls. She smiles in that passive aggressive smile, do this for 2 minutes (she demonstrates), it will be fun she assures me. It most certainly will not be fun, f**k off M. I hate you. I force my own smile and start my timer of hell.
I’m over here lifting these balls, then I shout are these boobs? M These feels like boobs.
“I wish my boobs looked like that” she says. “Me too but they’re a little heavy for me”. Can you imagine!?
What is that…Snoring!!
It sure as hell is.
Mr. A fell asleep during PT. This is not a barely audible snore sesh. This is a man snore, a big grizzle man snore.
I pop my head out of my bed hole in disbelief to better assess the sitch. Yep, passed out cold. How in the GD world does a man pass out during PT. Did all of those Jesus moans wear him out? Oh Lawd, somebody help him.
Oh, I see now. He’s hooked up to the tens machine with heat over him. Mr. A is being mildly electrocuted which always puts me to sleep. WTF??
I am jealous actually, I’m not even gonna lie. Perhaps next time I will scream to Heysus, pass out and leave with pillow wrinkles on my face.
Wouldn’t that be nice??