Physical Therapy

Apparently I actually had several choices in therapists and they all had a waiting list a mile long too. Between work (I had graduated high school early and was working full time until college) and life I hedged my bets and scheduled an appointment with each. Each saying they might be able to get in sooner.

(Here is where I need to make a side note. I will insult doctors all day long, but I do not have the extended negative experiences with several therapists to insult physical therapists. I only had experience with one therapist. Therapy was probably the most horrible and scary thing ever. If anything I say about it from here on out sounds bad, its because it was, not because it wasn't worth it. It was also not the fault of my therapist  but the nature of my problem.)

When I finally got in for a consultation I got into the system and could have weekly appointments. They went on for about a year and continued to be scary as hell. The idea of a stranger going inside me to fix an internal muscle was too weird to handle. Although, initially I was so fucked up I had to be on muscle relaxants to even be capable of handling therapy.

You think after a year the scary would start to go away. No. It was like once I got my head around the idea of this whole thing I went of the muscle relaxants and everything hurt like hell again. Once I got used to the idea of therapy without a pill to help, she upped the ante. I hit a plateau, so dry needling was in order. This is where the therapist finds a knot in your muscle and shoves an acupuncture needle in it, moves it around in the knot for about ten seconds while you scream in pain. At least she gave me a burlap voodoo doll looking thing to try to rip in half each time. Him and I became good friends eventually.

Therapy is work. For the therapist and the patient. I think 1/2 of her work was making small talk to get your mind off the fact of the weirdness that is occurring. Half of my work was learning to chill the fuck out.

As for my relationship situation I was still with that same guy from high school believe it or not. My therapist was constantly asking me questions about what I was becoming capable of doing again. Each time she assumed that my boyfriend would be a typical angsty 19-year-old who got pissed that he was cut off in his sexual prime. She was impressed when I kept telling her examples that he was always pushing me to do a little more than I thought I could, but never tried to make me do something I didn't want to or couldn't.