Quitting was the only option
Last Friday, I made a fateful decision to quit.
It seemed pretty surreal but I was late (again) for physiotherapy because I was too caught up in school doing stuff, so by the time I got to the clinic it was already fifteen minutes past three. So I quickly changed and got ready for warm-ups. My assigned physiotherapist was a tad too cold, and simply sent me off to the threadmill.
Well, I started with my usual running routine: Start slow and pick up the pace as I went along. Then the physiotherapist came over and asked me why I was running so slowly, so I tried to explain to her that I just started.
"Well, if you come at 3pm, you can run slowly. But if you come in at 3.20, when the class is about to start, then you have to run fast."
I continued running for a while, but the tears merely trickled down my cheeks as I repeatedly dabbed my eyes with my exercise towel.
That was such a deliberate snub.
After running for another two minutes, I decided to call it quits. I slammed the STOP button on the threadmill and proceeded to the counter to ask for my card. The receptionist looked at me, and I said, "I decided not to go for today's session afterall."
Turning my back from the clinic, I headed to the orthopaedic clinic to ask for William, the guy who examined me last week. He wasn't around.
The next person whom I could talk to was Andrew Tan, the doctor who operated on me. The staff at H clinic told me he wasn't in, but that he was at G clinic (which I had no idea where that was), but luckily I stopped a nurse to ask for directions.
Everything happened so fast. I simply went to the counter at G clinic, asked if I could see Andrew. They said I could just go in and so I knocked on his door and just went in. Like that.
I walked in. And sat down. And opened my mouth...
Couldn't speak. Could only cry.
Apparently, the doctor was familiar to such scenes. It wasn't the first time anyone has complained about the cold treatment at the physio clinics.
After hearing my suit, the doctor decided to let me off physiotherapy. I thanked the doctor for his time and walked out of the room.
I was free.
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I couldn't take that lying anymore. No way was I going to stand around getting snubbed by inconsiderate medical staff who train you as if you're in the military. It wasn't the first time I felt this way in the clinic, and my first physiotherapist was already bad enough as it is. I'm not saying that my second physiotherapist was ill-natured or anything when she made that comment, but she was downright tactless.
And what kind of logic is that? Just because I arrived late doesn't mean that I should do my warm-up hastily. That was precisely HOW I got my injury in the first place. Failing to warm-up properly before a judo session and ended up tearing my ligament after an opponent's sweep.
It's been so tiring trying to arrange for a proper physio timing, not to mention force myself to regularly exercise just to maintain my strength. Schoolwork is an absolute bitch. And it doesn't help when your CB prof just decides to change her class again, which unfortunately clashes with your physio date, forcing you to change.
If I do have to exercise, then let me do it at my own pace, own time, own strength.
You know, I'm not in a hurry to get my full strength back. Unless someone is willing to train together with me, I'll probably have to drag myself to the gym in the midst of my busy schedule.