Physio
I went to my first physical therapy session yesterday. That phrase still throws me a bit, as I'm so used to the Canadian version. . . "physiotherapy". I would say I was "going to physio", as opposed to "going to PT."
Anyway, whatever the word, I'm not happy about it. First, I was nearly ten minutes late, and the physical therapist seemed perturbed and impatient through the duration of the session about it. Plus I was getting perturbed in return by her questions. Please don't ask me what my goals are for physical therapy if you are going to tell me what they should be anyway. Then she told me I could use her favourite pen to fill out my forms, and handed me one with the NY Jets logo on it. Ugh, we are just not going to get along.
She watched me walk, and told me that I was walking a bit funky. I told her that I was unaware of this. Later, she said I could run, but told me not to run if I'm running funky. Huh? And how would I know if I'm running funky, if I can't tell if I'm walking funky. And is "funky" the proper medical term for this? I tried to clarify this by asking if she meant feeling pain, but she said no, she meant if my pace wasn't what it normally should be. Whatever.
So after I got a foam roller massage, a thorough shaking on this weird vibrating machine, and ten minutes of pulsating electric shocks through my legs, I really felt no better, save somewhat more turned on then when I walked in the door. Today my hip was sore, which made me further believe this is a waste of time.
Thus, after visits to two different sports doctors and a visit to a physical therapist, now I'm thoroughly convinced they are all just full of crap, and that I know better than they do. I believe that as long as I listen to my body I'll rehabilitate fine. You might think that I'm wrong here, and that it was my lack of judgment that got me into this in the first place, and you'd be only sort of right. Clearly, I kept training and racing hard, despite what my body was telling me, so the key phrase in the above statement is "listen to my body," which I've always done, and managed to stay injury free, until this recent fiasco.
Don't fret though, I still plan to keep going to physio. . . er, PT, sorry. But despite what she says, I'm not ready to run yet. At least not for a few more days. Better to heal a little more than blow it early.
I'll be back. No worries about that.
Anyway, whatever the word, I'm not happy about it. First, I was nearly ten minutes late, and the physical therapist seemed perturbed and impatient through the duration of the session about it. Plus I was getting perturbed in return by her questions. Please don't ask me what my goals are for physical therapy if you are going to tell me what they should be anyway. Then she told me I could use her favourite pen to fill out my forms, and handed me one with the NY Jets logo on it. Ugh, we are just not going to get along.
She watched me walk, and told me that I was walking a bit funky. I told her that I was unaware of this. Later, she said I could run, but told me not to run if I'm running funky. Huh? And how would I know if I'm running funky, if I can't tell if I'm walking funky. And is "funky" the proper medical term for this? I tried to clarify this by asking if she meant feeling pain, but she said no, she meant if my pace wasn't what it normally should be. Whatever.
So after I got a foam roller massage, a thorough shaking on this weird vibrating machine, and ten minutes of pulsating electric shocks through my legs, I really felt no better, save somewhat more turned on then when I walked in the door. Today my hip was sore, which made me further believe this is a waste of time.
Thus, after visits to two different sports doctors and a visit to a physical therapist, now I'm thoroughly convinced they are all just full of crap, and that I know better than they do. I believe that as long as I listen to my body I'll rehabilitate fine. You might think that I'm wrong here, and that it was my lack of judgment that got me into this in the first place, and you'd be only sort of right. Clearly, I kept training and racing hard, despite what my body was telling me, so the key phrase in the above statement is "listen to my body," which I've always done, and managed to stay injury free, until this recent fiasco.
Don't fret though, I still plan to keep going to physio. . . er, PT, sorry. But despite what she says, I'm not ready to run yet. At least not for a few more days. Better to heal a little more than blow it early.
I'll be back. No worries about that.
Labels: injury
posted by Skylight at 6:39 PM
3 Comments:
I think you're wrong, but I also think you got a crappy PT. I liked the PTs I saw at Professional Physical Therapy (Columbus Circle, in the Equinox gym they have there). Great people, and I even met a really cute girl. Too bad she never called me back. :~(
You do have to listen to your body, though. I didn't, and look where it got me!
I had a cute PT for three months when I blew out my knee ten years ago (yup, overtraining). Take your motivation where you find it.
And now I have to clean off my screen because I snorted water when I read your fourth paragraph. Thanks a lot. ;-)
Glad you could appreciate my humour, sister! My therapist wasn't bad looking, which is probably why I cut her some slack in the attitude department.
jbl, there is some tongue-in-cheek humour in the post that maybe didn't come through. I'm actually probably more ticked at myself for getting me into this mess in the first place, but it's far more fun to take out my frustrations on the physiotherapist. She actually did seem to know a thing or two.
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