BRUTAL-ly Honest

I had physical therapy today. My usual physical therapist was sick so I got a substitute today. A brutally honest one. I guess I should talk about physical therapy in general since I haven’t done that yet.

About a week and a half ago I went in for my consult and evaluation. It was kinda odd, but based on past physical therapy sessions for other problems, I was expecting odd. She needed to observe and measure all kinds of things related to my foot, so I took off both shoes and socks. She looked at my feet while I just stood there. She had me raise up to my toes while standing on both feet. She had me stand on one foot at a time so she could look at something else. Then she made me walk up and back the room so she could see stuff when I walked. Then I laid down.

Here’s where it got really sad: she measured my calf/Achilles flexibility. When you’re laying back and you pull your toes up to a 90 degree angle (toes to the sky), that 90 degree angle is considered “0″. Pull your toes in toward your shin more, and every degree beyond 90 is +1. So you want the 80 degree angle: +10 on their scale. Ok so when I first got measured a week and a half ago, I was at -5. MINUS 5. So that’s 15 degrees of flexibility that I’m lacking. OK people, it turns out this isn’t bad; it’s ABYSMAL. Apparently the average elderly person has more flexibility in their calf/Achilles. Heck even my “good” foot is only at a +5. OK fine, my ankle and calf aren’t flexible. Whatever — fix me!!

Since the evaluation took up most of our session (we also chatted about pain, history, symptoms, etc), there wasn’t much time for anything else. She rubbed my foot a little, which sounds nice but let’s face it – Marla is a beast and doesn’t like anything. So while it was nice to have the lotion applied to my foot, this wasn’t exactly pleasurable. Next I flipped over onto my stomach. OK when you’re in physical therapy, never let them get you into this position. It’s the position they use to inflict cruel and unusual punishment. She told me she was going to ice my foot. Again, sounds nice right? NO. NO, NOT RIGHT AT ALL. She took an ice cube, and rubbed it DIRECTLY on my arch for 3 minutes. If this doesn’t sound like hell to you, go ahead and try it yourself. She warned me that it would hurt at first, then it would burn, but that by about 90 seconds to 2 minutes into this “therapy” my foot would become numb and I wouldn’t feel it anymore.

Are you joking? I am all for icing a wound, but sweet Jesus this is insane!

After what seemed like an eternity, three minutes ended. Nice and numb, I was shown a calf stretch and told to do it 3-5 times a day. Then I was sent home. Fantastic.

Did I stretch 3-5 times per day? Hell no. It’s not that I don’t want to do it. It’s that I’m busy and it’s not convenient to do it. For instance, I share the office at my new job with like 10 other people. Am I just supposed to get up and start stretching in the middle of the room in the middle of the workday? And not just one time, but repeatedly? I dunno about that. I probably only did an average of 2 stretch sessions per day, which I figure is better than nothing.

Last week I had 2 more sessions. These were full-length. She started by using the Ultra-Sound machine on my foot. It’s pretty cool, totally painless, and takes up a solid 7-8 minutes of the session. If only it were longer. Basically they just put some jelly on the controller, turn the machine on, and rub your foot down. It’s not the same machine they use at the hospital to like look at babies or other things inside of you, but rather is just a little microphone-looking thing that shows no image and just gets rubbed around. I asked how in the heck this is “therapeutic” and was told the ultra-sound waves are thought to send vibrations throughout the area that signal to the chemicals causing the inflammation that they should go away now. Less inflammation = less pain. Sweet.

I thought that given the pain-free start to the session, this was a sure sign that the torture from the time before would not be repeated. Oh how I was wrong!! When I said that I was tortured before, that was only the start of evil things to come. Massages on my arch? Pain. In some places it feels nice. In other places it makes me want to cry. But let’s talk about massages on my calf. Again, sounds nice right? Again, FALSE.

They put your foot in a flexed position, perhaps a 90 degree angle. Remember when I said I was initially at -5, that’s a 95 degree angle. So already, my calf is being stretched 5 degrees. Apparently it’s painful to massage a stretched muscle. No, it’s not painful. That’s not the right word. It’s like she had some sort of ability to shove her hand into my muscle and rip pieces of it out, in these nice slow stroke motions. Teeth clenching. Fingers grasping tightly at the pillow I lay on. Telling her I’m in pain and asking if it should hurt that bad. None of it made the pain go away, and none of it made her stop or even ease up. I cannot say with any certainty how long this persisted, but dear god it felt like forever. And then it ended. HOORAY! Oh wait, now that we’re done here you need to ice my foot again? Seriously? At least she gave me an ice pack (wrapped in a towel thankfully) for my calf. Whew that was tough.

Repeat that again, then fast forward to today with the substitute.

She didn’t just want to blindly look at the notes and continue with therapy, so she did some new measurements and observations before she started. And unlike the other therapist, she didn’t keep her thoughts to herself. In fact, she didn’t hold anything back either. Talk about brutally honest! “Your feet really should belong to two different people. The right one has a normal arch that lowers when you step, the way it should. Your left foot has a high arch and doesn’t even move a little when you step. This is terrible. You should have had this fixed years ago.”

OK thanks lady. I didn’t get it fixed years ago, but I’m here now. Fix it. First, more measurements. She didn’t measure my right foot, but measured the angle of the left. I’m now at a 0. Awesome dude! I increased my flexibility by 33% of what it needs to be. I improved so much in a week and a half. YAY!!

Apparently this was not cause for celebration. In fact, it was time to be brutally honest and burst my bubble. “0 isn’t good. It’s still really really terrible. I can’t believe that you’re only at a 0.” Oh and while she was saying this, she was kinda laughing at me. She also raised her voice a little as she told me that I wasn’t making progress and was going to have to increase my stretching to 8 or more times per day if I ever wanted to get better.

Alright: 1. FUCK YOU. 2. Don’t rain on my parade. I made an improvement. This is a small victory for me, so let me relish it for half a minute before you berate me, my efforts, and my damaged foot. 3. Obviously you know know nothing about motivation, because this would have been the perfect time to say something along the lines of “well +5 is a great start. Now if you keep doing your stretches, maybe increasing them to 8 per day, you’ll speed up your rehab and be pain free sooner. Keep up the good work.” But no, she laughed at me and minimized what I considered a gain. Oh and then she beat the shit out of my calf. I almost started crying. The only bonus to having her as opposed to the other lady was that she was SUPER nice to Marla and Marla genuinely feels OK right now. Also, she taped my arch for extra support, and showed me how I can do this on my own.

I’m definitely ready for an ice pack on my calf, but I’m going to do 8 sets of stretches today. We’ll see how that goes. Torture resumes on Thursday