* My orthopaedic doctor prescribed three weeks of PT for me for my herniated disc. Which has been fine and I'm doing a lot better. The weird part of it is that this particular office is called the "Athletic Rehab Center" and it is clearly a place where the local high schools send all their football injuries for therapy. While there last week, for example, I listened to a 'team captain' beg and plead with his therapist to override an urgent care doc's diagnosis and prescription for three to six weeks rest so that he could play in Friday night's big game. I'm happy to say the PT refused and explained that he can not override a doctor's instructions.
Regardless, the place is comical. One of the head therapists is Sean, which could not be a more appropriate name if you could see this fireplug of a balding man. Every time he makes a request aloud, it sounds like we're all in the huddle with him. He also loves to make reference to the radio during his sessions:
"Alright! I need ice and stim, and hot pack stat! A little U2 for you here people... where the streets have no name!"
Last week, he was stretching a hamstring on a patient and treating us all to his rendition of "Old Time Rock n' Roll" and noting " a little Risky Business for you... Tom Cruise was awesome in that movie!"
Much of his banter begins with a double clap and "a little... , as in " a little Paparazzi for y'all!"
Yesterday I'm there laying on my hot pack while he's ringing a bell and yelling "Rotator Cuff! Rotator Cuff here! Rotator Cuff!"
Thank the Lord, he's not my personal therapist.
Instead I have the lovely Matt, who- I'm not sad to tell you- massages my back and sometimes rubs my glutes... okay, actually it's more like jams his elbow in my ass and presses so hard on the sciatic nerve that I want to poke an ice pick in his forehead, but nonetheless... when is the last time a cute man touched my butt? The sessions always end with ten minutes on the "stim" which is the contraption that sends electrical impulses into my back muscles while I lay on a hot clay pack to warm the muscles. I fall asleep almost every time. I think it's what they used to offer as an option for scoliosis treatment back in the day... it turned out not to work as effectively as bracing, but I'd much rather have had to sleep with the stim on nightly than wear that plastic mold from hell my parents opted for!!
Oh, and this one girl who I think was in a car accident and has some hip displacement gets to use the Wii. Yes, I said "Wii". I am so jealous that she gets to use her hips to have her character headbutt some soccer balls while I have to do squats on the Total Gym and do stretches on the table. Did I mention this table is just under a picture of the South Hills football team circa 2003 and there are former students watching me as well as the assistant coach who is that Matt dude from "American Idol" season 2, I believe? It's so surreal.
Yesterday's loud and mid-stretching discussion was all about how you shouldn't throw to a receiver when you're under ten yards and that the Vikings made a huge mistake- yadda yadda yadda- and good old "Brett" should know better. This from the 5 foot 4 inch, slightly overweight, balding, hand clapping, musical genius that is Sean. It's like watching Rudy. At any moment I expect him to jump up on the therapy table and give us a Knute Rockney speech.
Oh, Athletic Rehab Center. Your antics will be missed.
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