If you’re ever hanging at therapy and your therapist slowly walks over to a drawer and surreptitiously pulls out what looks like one of those cheese spreaders you put out during parties, my best advice is simply to run. Run as far and as fast as your injured knee/ankle/foot/hip will allow.
While my leg is getting stronger, the bad news is that alongside that strength sits my arch nemesis, scar tissue. I’ve garnered an up close and personal relationship with cocoa butter and tennis balls, in that order. My skin has never been softer and yet the adhesions are steadfast.
Which brings me to my sweet, kind, devilish therapist walking over with that instrument. There was no cheese in sight. I checked. Unless you count the side of my knee. As hard as she tried, she just couldn’t smooth it out.
I had thought she and I had come to an agreement. Therapy sessions were predictable: non painful massage, painful bending, less painful gym work, relieving ice. This was an unauthorized change of plans. I felt betrayed.
Unfortunately this is not a relationship I can break off if I have any hopes of climbing stairs like a normal person ever again.
So I will return. I couldn’t run away even if I tried. 🙂