Let's Get Physical...

I returned to visit Dr. Yup-Yup on Tuesday. We completed our standard routine of insurance and mobility, followed by a looooong discussion about pain. Specifically MINE, and how I would really rather NOT have it any more.

He asked how Physical Therapy was going.

I had to confess that, in fact, it WASN'T - because the people at the PT Clinic never called me back. He sighed deeply, shook his head and requested the name of the clinic. He walked to the corner of the office as I told him and crossed the clinic off his list of recommendations.

I was then handed a written prescription for PT at a clinic not far from my office.

I called the Clinic on Wednesday, and was asked a fairly thorough list of questions. I was invited to return the questions, in order to ease me into the routine. Feeling extremely comfortable with the answers, I scheduled my first appointment for today.

It lasted two hours.

I was told ahead of time that the first appointment would be long, as it was an evaluation of my mobility and pain locations. I was fine with that. In fact, I scheduled a 1/2 day from work just to make sure that everything went smoothly.

However.

I was not really prepared to be cared for by a male. No no no no no.

See, I have a slight limp. That's no big deal, right? Of course not. However, the limp is caused from severe arthritis in my right hip - which spreads to...less comfortable places.

Namely my lower back, my thigh and...um...my butt.

See, the arthritis causes my hip to pop in and out of socket. A LOT. This, in turn, triggers muscle spasms - or Charley Horses - in the muscles in the immediate vicinity. My body is not a very comfortable place most days.

Upon realizing that my Therapist would be male, I sternly reminded myself that he was a Professional. A Professional, no less, that would walk me through the exercises and routines needed to walk comfortably, to begin exercising - and hopefully, to prevent the immediate use of a cane. I calmed down immediately.

Then he touched my butt.

And I immediately started laughing.

The Round Table began chanting "Strange man touching your butt! Strange man touching your butt! We have a BUTT TOUCHER!"

Then he began working on Pressure Points in the same area.

And I laughed even harder, as the phrase turned to "Strange man RUBBING your butt!"

I snapped out of it when he asked if I was okay.

I snickered and said "Ticklish!" even though it reallyreallyreally HURT.

It did not help that I was wearing a hospital gown and...underthings.

Though I failed miserably at being an Adult this afternoon, the therapist did not fail at being a professional. He maintained eye contact when the gown slipped. He turned his head when I shifted wrong. He covered me up with towels and heating pads as needed.

And as I left, he recommended that I wear shorts to our next session.

I don't know if that will matter.

Not if he has to touch my butt.