The Joys of Physical Therapy
Posted 25th October 2009 at 05:27 PM by Carolia
My doctor, otherwise known as the evil sadist, decided that it wasn't enough for him to hurt me once a month. No, obviously I needed someone to hurt me on a regular basis, so he sent me to physical therapy. I started Friday, and will be going Monday/Wednesday/Friday for the next month or two or three.
I learned to wrench my own toe forward and backward, using my heel as an instrument of pain. I learned to roll a Lysol can under my foot with pressure, but that one actually feels nice--it was put in there to lull me into complacency before the last exercise. It seemed painless enough. I rest my big toe and the toe next to it on a folded hand towel with the foot behind me. I put the other foot by the wall and do a basic runner's stretch, one set with my back leg straight and one with it bent, to get the stretch in different places. The problem with this is that I haven't used those leg muscles in, oh, over a month. That stretch almost brought me to tears.
After all that was over, they iced my foot. When I winced, the therapy lady asked if it was too heavy. No, I told her, it's just that the cold was COLD (hey, there's a profound statement--gosh, that cold certainly is cold!). They put a paper towel between my foot and the ice, which helped a smidge, but not much.
I have gotten to continue this torture at home, minus the ice, and tomorrow I get to drive to this place again so they can torture me more. What fun.
I learned to wrench my own toe forward and backward, using my heel as an instrument of pain. I learned to roll a Lysol can under my foot with pressure, but that one actually feels nice--it was put in there to lull me into complacency before the last exercise. It seemed painless enough. I rest my big toe and the toe next to it on a folded hand towel with the foot behind me. I put the other foot by the wall and do a basic runner's stretch, one set with my back leg straight and one with it bent, to get the stretch in different places. The problem with this is that I haven't used those leg muscles in, oh, over a month. That stretch almost brought me to tears.
After all that was over, they iced my foot. When I winced, the therapy lady asked if it was too heavy. No, I told her, it's just that the cold was COLD (hey, there's a profound statement--gosh, that cold certainly is cold!). They put a paper towel between my foot and the ice, which helped a smidge, but not much.
I have gotten to continue this torture at home, minus the ice, and tomorrow I get to drive to this place again so they can torture me more. What fun.
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