Good torture

When I was leaving work today for physical therapy, one of my co-workers wished me luck at the "torture session."

I love PT, and my therapist is awesome. But that doesn't mean a few of the Geneva Conventions weren't broken.

We started off OK, just some stretching. Then I was supposed to lift my legs up and down and out and in. I was OK on the horizontal but the vertical killed me. My legs did not want to do it.

It got worse. I was supposed to be pulling my toes up but I was not having much luck, especially with my right foot. Unless I spasmed and jerked my leg all over, I couldn't do it reliably.

I'm going to get some stims, she says, referring to electric stimulants. My crappy legs do not feel much, so she had to really crank the power to get them to work. It sort of worked, not great. It wasn't the deus ex machina I am looking for.

Next, we did bridges, which for some odd reason I have really improved at. She still has to sit on my legs, but I no longer almost push her over backward.

Finally, she was working on my balance. She had me sit on the edge of the mat and hold this piece of tape in both hands over my head and then stick the tape in this mirror right in front of me. If you are confused about the logistics of this, that's OK. The only important thing to know is that it was really hard and when I was finally about to get the tape on the mirror, she moved the mirror. Really!

It was like doing therapy with my little sister. It's that fun, too.