Physical Torture

Yeah, that’s what they call it at my therapy place. I know they’re there to make me feel better, to help me with what is aching and paining me, but I secretly think they enjoy making you hurt.

My evaluation appointment was actually kind of fun when I first got there. There were so many people who were so glad to see me, hugs and compliments on my weight loss, chatting to catch up, it was great. The therapist I had for my knee is the one I’m going to (along with another guy when she wasn’t available) for the hip.

So she poked into my hip/groin area. She made me go through all these range of motion things for my hip and my back because the problem may have been coming from my back, which it isn’t.

Then when she had the problem diagnosed, she asked if she could do some stretching to see if she could get it to stop clunking every time I take a step. Right up front I need you to know that it worked and didn’t start clunking again till after I got home from dinner last night (around 8:30).

What she did was STRAP HERSELF to my bent leg with a big long seat belt. I was laying on the treatment table and she stood next to my bent knee, put a folded up pillow in my, ahh, crotch, and buckled in. Then she started rotating my leg/hip, which takes a lot because I’m really flexible and so she really has to work at getting some sort of stretch in there.

I’m in pain today. Mission accomplished.

And I have another appointment tonight after work.

With the guy.

Not embarrassing at all.