The photo to the right is of one of two buildings that are owned by University Orthopedics, the group that has been taking care of my ankle. Sure, it looks all professional and well-manicured, but behind closed doors I call it "Sonya's House of Torture."My therapy appointments are about two hours long. In order to shorten the actual time I'm there, I run "circuits" of the different exercises. It's faster, and I don't need someone watching me every second.
When I was at therapy yesterday, Sonya, my therapist was planning on giving me all kinds of new exercises. However, she didn't tell me that she was planning on doing that, so whenever I would start a different old exercise, she would firmly ask across the room, "What are you doing now, Larisa?" I would tell her, and she would tell me that no, I'm not to do that exercise anymore. It was a bit sadistic if you ask me--waiting for me to make a mistake so that she could correct me.
Well, revenge is a dish best served cold, eh? During one of those stupid new exercises (can you tell I wasn't very happy about them?), I tuned into the music playing overhead in the big therapy room. It just so happened to be "Misery" by Maroon 5, and just at that moment the chorus came in with "I am in misery..." I started just singing along, leaning over to make sure that Sonya heard every last word.
She cooly turned to me and said, "Oh, stop your whining!" and then smiled.
Welcome to Sonya's House of Torture. If I wasn't so dang grateful for her, and if I didn't like her so much, I just might hate her.
How much longer do you have to have therapy? I hope not too long. I do remember my broken ankle seeming to take forever to heal. It ached for so long and then one day...healed. :)
ReplyDeleteI just read a book that said that a good physical therapist is one part healer, one part sadist. I am glad that Aris is getting better and she is!
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