Corsicana Daily Sun, Corsicana, Texas

Opinion

July 16, 2013

Therapy

Corsicana — “Therapy...the treatment of disease or of any physical or mental disorder by medical or physical means, usually excluding surgery...”

I took a serious fall on my butt-bone back in mid-May and I have been in various stages of agony ever since. I have been to our family doctor, two hospitals, various X-ray and MRI facilities, an orthotic clinic, a neurosurgeon, and, pending an end-of-month decision on surgery, I am taking “core strengthening” physical therapy twice a week.

I have been fitted with a sadistic back brace that feels like carrying a back-pack full of bricks. Even the name is sadistic — Contour TLSO Sternal Pad Kit with Shoulder Straps. Getting in and out of it is a real struggle — kind of like hooking up a horse harness on a Clydesdale. It seems like every time I get harnessed up, nature calls and I have to unhitch again. The Little Woman (she hates that name) says that she is getting sick and tired of the sound of those screaming Velcro fasteners all day and night. And you would not believe the cost of this puppy! Before the Medicare reduction, it was about equal to the cost of a Clydesdale and harness.

All this doctor-place visiting is a real pain in the butt to go along with my literal pain in the butt. Every stop requires me to arrive 30 minutes early to fill out a clipboard-full of paperwork. I carry a poop-sheet with me with all my information so I can just fill out my name, address, and phone number and then enter “see attached” for the rest.

I have two therapists who work me over. The guy looks like a cross between an Olympic gymnast and a strict first sergeant. He is very precise in his speech and his demonstrations of exercise techniques and he really puts me through the paces and I am doing a little better thanks to him. He even taught me how to get in and out of bed without weeping from the pain.

The female therapist is very petite and cute and so sweet she makes Marie Osmond look like “Mother Dearest.” She fusses over me and gently leads me from machine to machine. My favorite exercise is where she has me wrap my arms around this huge rubber ball while she pushes and tugs on it from all directions and tries to take it away from me. I don’t care how cute she is, she just can’t have my ball! So there!

My sessions always end up with about 15 minutes of “hands-on” therapy with the old cocoa-butter followed by another 15 minutes of electro-therapy with ice. When all that is done, they apply a layer of icy-hot stuff and send me on my tingling way.

I have written several times about all the different places and things to see and visit in and around Sarasota, Fla. So far, all I seem to have seen is receptionists, waiting rooms, white coats, and stethoscopes. However, that being said, we (TLW and I) are thankful for having all this various medical service within short driving distances of our house. If we still lived out on Golden Pond, there is no telling how many trips we would have had to make to specialists in Tyler or Dallas.

My hope is that all this doesn’t culminate in an extended hospital stay. I have always had a kind of phobia about hospitals. They make you schlep around in gowns that are G-rated in the front and X-rated in the back. They keep you on pills and needles all the time. They always wake you up at 2 a.m. to give you a sleeping pill? And a hospital stay is so expensive they should have two recovery room areas — one outside surgery and one outside the cashier’s office.

I mean, there are always strangers in white coats coming in to examine you who may or may not even work there. One time a lady friend of mine was in the hospital for a week and the same guy in a white coat examined her at 11:30 a.m. every day. As it turned out, he wasn’t even a doctor — he was a Good Humor man on his lunch hour!

When I have to go to the hospital, I really don’t want to have visitors. And I hate it when they bring stuff — it seems like half of the visitors bring candy, fruit, and other goodies to feed those visitors who bring books, magazines, and flowers.

Have you ever noticed that visitors never talk to the patient they came to visit? Oh no, they spend most of their time talking to each other and other patients in the room, the hall, or even the rest of the ward. TLW is the worst at this. The last time I was in the hospital, after I got home, she went back several times to visit the other patients and the nurses.

Gotta go...nature calls and it’s Velcro-ripping time...see ya.

          —————

Dick Platt is a Daily Sun columnist. His column appears on Tuesdays. Want to “Soundoff” on this column? Email: soundoff@corsicanadailysun.com

1
Text Only
Opinion
  • Dr Don Newbury 2014.jpg Flipping out over flip-tops

    Somewhere between the admonition to avoid looks at gift horse’s mouths and the dangers of Greeks bearing gifts should be warnings about acceptance of gifts from offspring.

    July 30, 2014 1 Photo

  • Dick Platt 2014.jpg ‘Spilling doze count’

    My subject is borrowed from a local contributor to the Sarasota Herald Tribune named Bob Parkinson.

    July 28, 2014 1 Photo

  • Deanna Kirk Water Park woes

    I’ve come to the realization that vacations are not a luxury, they’re a necessity.

    July 25, 2014 1 Photo

  • Dr Don Newbury 2014.jpg Old, new, borrowed, blue

       Dissection of notes found in the pocket of an old suit isn’t easy. Maybe they were scrawled during the lull in a wedding ceremony, or to jog my memory of a joke for later use.

    July 24, 2014 1 Photo

  • Dick Platt 2014.jpg Spam french fries

    I saw a relatively disturbing video and article on Yahoo which touted making Spam French fires to go alongside your big old ground chuck burger. I just can’t imagine a basket full of these deep-fried cholesterol-loaded sticks, but there they were, bigger than Texas.

    July 22, 2014 1 Photo

  • Janet Jacobs Dumb and dumber in the blotter

    When it comes to dumb criminals, nothing beats the would-be gang of car burglars who tried to break into a car in Tampa, Florida, this past week.

    July 20, 2014 1 Photo

  • Belcher, Bob.jpg ‘Change’ — old "buzz word" shows up in our town

    If you pay much attention when you’re driving around town lately (and I really hope that you do — pay attention, that is) you can’t help but admit we’ve seen some “change” as of late. And, contrary to the political connotations that word will forever carry with it now, that “change” we’re seeing is good.

    July 18, 2014 1 Photo

  • Bill Tinsley Germany present and past

    Last Sunday evening my wife and I stood on the balcony of our apartment in Nuremberg and watched as fireworks lit up the sky.

    July 17, 2014 1 Photo

  • Dr Don Newbury 2014.jpg Where strawberries are king

    In 1949, when Stilwell, Oklahoma’s “Strawberry Festival” was just one year old, crooners were applauded when they cut loose with Dear Hearts and Gentle People.

    July 16, 2014 1 Photo

  • Dick Platt 2014.jpg My TV is held hostage

    Give me back my TV! The Sunday sports fare today is just pitiful as far as I am concerned. Over the past weeks, my normal sports programs has been rudely preempted by endless hours of Wimbledon tennis, the Tour de France, assorted motor sports, and the nauseating mega-million signing sagas of LeBron James and Carmello Anthony

    July 14, 2014 1 Photo