Physical Therapy: First Impressions

[mer_moon]

Today I had my first (for real, actually scheduled) Physical Therapy appointment. It wasn't as bad as I'd feared, and I'm a pain wimp with a strong imagination, so you can imagine how bad I'd feared, and then maybe consider the fact that I'm always being told I've got a good touch for horror, and lump that into the imaginatin' fear-bowl, and that's where I started out. But! As I said, wasn't nearly as bad. The physical therapist is a lovely woman who reminds me of a fairy godmother: brisk, energetic, round, not tall. The frequent questions about the kind of pain medication I might be on or might have lying about the house was somewhat alarming, and my knee aches now, but all told it was pretty tame. At the end of the appointment, I was given a handheld dial, which was attached to little pads suckered onto my knee, and when I turned it on, 'twas given to me to control the level of 'vibrations' the pads sent through my knee. I think it was supposed to be soothing? I didn't like it, though. Reminded me of little vampires, mouthing at my skin, their teeth too soft to pierce, so all they could do was gnawgnaw gnaw at various intensities -- or maybe of an aquatic catfish-esque thing, all teeth and mouthings.

Now that PT has been approved by Worker's Comp folks, I'm going three times a week for three weeks.

And this life-update is brought to you entirely by insomnia. Last night I had some very nebulous (as in, they wouldn't shape - wouldn't form; horrible fragments as soon as I woke - dispersing) nightmares. I didn't like them at all, and that's all I remember now, although I also sort of remember typing them to Amal once I woke up -- unless that was tail-end (tale!-end) of nightmaring.

Ah well. Ride, ride. Clip-clop.