Sweet holy mother of pearl
I saw the physical therapist for the first time today. She asked me a bunch of questions, made me do a few different stretches, this and that, and the whole time I was pretty much in misery. Finally she said ok, your nerve is extremely irritated and I can see you're in constant pain. I don't normally do this on the first visit but I'm putting you right into traction.
She was very attractive, I must say, and I think she caught me looking at her boob. That pretty much put an end to me stealing glances at her boobs. Maybe that's why she decided to put me in traction. Screw it, I'm done with boobs. Ladies you can keep them all to yourself as far as I'm concerned, and you have my physical therapist to thank.
Anyway, we went in, she hooked me up, and away I went. She said she didn't want to do too much the first time. I told her I didn't care, said to let it rip. She said the reason she didn't want to do too much on the machine was because she wanted me to be able to walk out under my own power. I replied that either way I'll be barely able to walk out, so let 'er rip. I think she might have cranked it up maybe a single notch from where it was.
I didn't really feel much while I was on the table. I could feel the machine relax and a little bit of stretch but not all that much. I really thought in the end the thing would be useless and I wouldn't feel a thing.
When I was done she handed me some papers, talked about the next appointment and what I should be doing between now and then. Chiefly I have to maintain good posture all the time and I shouldn't be bending over to relieve the pain. I guess what happens when I bend over is that the nerve is pinched to the point where it doesn't feel anything and when I stop bending over the pressure is released and it hurts like hell. Who knew.
So I walk out of the office all Seth Bullock right.
Eyes straight ahead, perfect posture, walking tall, and in complete effing agony like nothing I've ever felt before. I got to the desk to make my next appointment and I had no idea what to do with myself. All I knew was I wasn't supposed to bend over. I was attempting to will myself to explode into a million pieces. The receptionist must have thought, well, god knows what she thought. Then I had to walk to the car, perhaps the longest walk of my life. I just kept thinking I was Seth Bullock headed down main street to take care of business, Mr. Perfect Posture Guy.
Man I don't know about water boarding and I can imagine it's awful but they really should try traction instead.