Why is it that physiotherapists’ offices (all of them, I’ve never seen one that’s different) look like a dominatrix’s den of inequity with tastes that run to dusty rose?  Seriously.  There’s all these beds with truss-like equipment up the wazoo – and if that’s literal I seriously don’t want whatever injury you have.  It’s all leather, buckles, straps and slings, sharpish looking instruments and even some equipment that resembles a rack. I suppose the analogy doesn’t end there since we end up paying to be put through the torture.  We even get ordered about by someone who tragically isn’t really playing fair because they’re dressed more for senior time arts and crafts than any kind of fantasy enactment.

My physiotherapist looks more like an accountant and clearly my injury bores him. “Another (yawn) sprained ankle.  Uhmm, here’s the sheet, do exercise 1 through 2,600 do three sets of 30 each and then let me know you’re done” is about the gist of it. I’ve yet to get out of there in less than an hour and a half and it’s all hard work on my part except where he rubs my ankle with the ultrasonic taser thingie. (What did I tell you about torture? It’s just a milder version of the jackhammer they used to blow my kidney stones to bits, and I was SEDATED for that!)  I prefer massage therapy frankly where the sum total of my contribution is “could you relax just a little bit more?”

And then there’s the exercises BETWEEN appointments. I have come to the realization that I am just a bad patient.  All my various physicians must have “non-compliant” written on my chart.  For instance, I don’t like taking a whole course of antibiotics, I get bored trying to remember to take it.

Actually, I resist all manner of routines so trying to add in anything to my haphazard, distracted life even if it’s “just do these three exercises once a day every day” seems impossibly difficult. The seeming easiness of it is really a big lie to me.  If I did all the things that “only take an extra 15 minutes a day” then that’s all I would be doing.  15 minutes of meditation, 15 minutes of pilates, 15 minutes cardio, 15 minutes stretching, 15 minutes of reading with each child (which makes 45 minutes if my math is correct), 15 minutes of dental care, 15 minutes of skin care, 15 minutes of hair and makeup, 15 minutes of dog walking, 15 minutes of dog training, 15 minutes of gardening, 15 minutes of laundry, 15 minutes cleaning the kitchen morning noon, and night.  Now add in the stuff that just HAS to get done like my job, and ensuring the family is fed and everyone just gets to where they need to be done at approximately the right time. It’s just too much.

Perhaps this isn’t a good mental direction given the time of year.