It has been a hard week of decorating, 140 large bathroom tiles bought, the majority of which I've slapped on the walls. Floorboards replaced, a hard board floor on top of that with a lino finish on top of that. Everyone mucked in on the grouting and eventually we were ready for the plumber who returned to re-furnish our bathroom with new appliances.
I have, in this time, found the constant trips up and down the stairs and the kneeling down & standing back up has caused my bad knee to flare up again. My doctor seems to believe that it will need time to settle down and not to rush into an operation but as a concession I have managed to get a course with the physiotherapist. For myself I prefer Physiotherapists to the more evil of the manipulators, The Osteopath, whom I believe really enjoy (in a very sadistic way) the sound of snapping cartilage.
My experience of Osteopaths is that they have a compulsion to always demonstrate to you their party piece which is to wrap an arm around your neck and with the second arm firmly around the head twist violently as a commando may do to end your lot. As your head suddenly jerks to the side you hear (and feel) an almighty CRACK at the base of the neck and they drop their hold with a smug warm feeling inside themselves. You can almost hear them say "Ha, bet you can't do that then", and they'd be right, you both can't and also do not wish to be able to do that. I have never felt any the better after one of these assaults and actually spend the rest of the day holding my head, rocking it side to side, just to make sure it isn't going to fall off.
FURTHERMORE..... They seem to do this 'trick' for what ever ails you, I have been to an Osteopath for leg problems, bad backs and arms but nothing even near the head and yet I have had this done to me by three different Osteopaths.
"A bad foot is it Sir, ok I'll get started just as soon as I've snapped the vertebrae in your neck".
"A wrist problem you say, well I'm just going to wrap my arms around your neck and head like so and ..... 'CRACK', Hey presto".
The time to get really scared is when they want to do an encore!
So I was only too pleased to go to the Physiotherapist for which the worst I can say of them is that they have an area called Occupational Therapy, which just sounds like Work Therapy. Well my objection to that is that WORK was normally where I picked up the injury. However I popped along for my session and not to stereo type the Therapist but SHE was MID TO LATE TWENTIES and was wearing TRACK SUIT BOTTOMS and a WHITE DENTIST STYLE TOP. If I gave a description of ALL of my previous Physios or Osteopaths (or Psychopaths) then frankly you could use this for the lot of them. She had a clipboard and pen.
I told her my life storey, she didn't ask for it nor solicited it in any way but I find it puts them ill at ease thus giving me the upper hand and in the Osteopaths case I just do it out of spite. All salient points are recorded on the said clip board followed be 5 minutes of prodding and much pulling (and pushing) of limbs until you wince. They like a good wince, it gives them something to get their teeth into. "Ah-ha, so that hurts does it?" Too bloody right it does you've just put my body into a position that a 'rubber man' in a circus would even find a challenge!
Condition diagnosed, in their opinion, they then move on to the next step (The Osteopath normally slip in their party piece here) and the list of exercises to do before your next appointment is given out. Now I've had sit ups, sit downs, step ups, step downs, roll-overs, lay down this way or that, Turn around, lift the right leg up, put the left leg down, up down, in out, in out and shake it all about you do the Hokey Cokey and apparently that's what it's all about.
Well this time I was given a 5 foot length of rubber ribbon approximately 6 inches wide, blue for a boy. She went on to explain the exercise which was to lay on the bed, face down, and with the rubber band around the ankle with the two ends firmly in the grip of each hand and "You should work the calf muscle by trying to push that leg away from your body". I was given a helpful demonstration during the appointment, the only difference being that she assisted me in the placing of the ribbon around my ankle.
Well, back at home and in the privacy of my bedroom, just after waking up in the morning, I thought I shall have a bash at this and started to unravel the rubber ribbon. I lay flat on my face, leg folded up into the air ready to receive this ribbon around the ankle. I couldn't reach. I twisted my back and tried a sort of lasso method of getting this thing around my ankle which just got caught on my heel then slowly slipped off and fell to the bed. I tried hooking it on the ankle before I lay on my face only to find that as soon as I was in the right position it had already slipped and fallen to the bed again.
I writhed to the left and to the right to try to hook this ribbon around my ankle but each and every time as I got into the final position it just slid down my rather smooth, lady like, hairless leg. Now I was getting frustrated with the thing. I then had the brainwave of tying it around the ankle twice, whilst I stood up so it wouldn't slip down, then I climbed onto the bed (face down) and reached for the left end of the ribbon. I couldn't reach it, so I tried to get a grab on the right end of the rubber ribbon and..... I couldn't reach it! Alison was at work and I was blowed if I was going to ask the children to help me, I just couldn't take the ridicule that would ensue.
Now I was getting a tad tetchy, right I will tie the rubber ribbon around the ankle first then grab BOTH ENDS of it and clamber on to the bed getting into position, face down, whilst keeping a firm hold of the ends. Well it had the effect of making me walk some what like a Thunderbird puppet, you know how their legs start to move in an exaggerated way towards their faces, except I think I had less control on the situation than Gerry Anderson had on his puppets. I more or less fell flat on my face on to the bed as my hands were behind my back with the rubber twisted around the wrists and the clenched fists holding on for dear life to the two ends of the rubber band.
I lay for a while, exhausted, contemplating what Alison would say if she walked in on me now. Both hands and wrists smelt of rubber. Both ankles smelt of rubber and for all the world I appeared to be into something that only Tory MP's and Cynthia Payne would really understand.
None the less, I was finally ready to commence the exercise, although I was losing the will to live by now, and I pulled the leg away from my torso, fighting the elasticity of this giant rubber band, and release. I then pulled the leg back again, this time a little further to get more tension on the rubber band and I could feel that calf muscle work, and release. Then a third time, getting into my stride now I pushed the leg a little further when suddenly my hand let go of the end and TWANG! The thing whipped around my leg and sped towards my other hand snapping at my bottom with a sharp sting on route!
So now my ankles smelt of rubber, My wrists smelt of rubber and my bottom was reddened. Oh and my leg shot backwards stumping my foot on the end of the bedstead. Frankly things were beginning to look suspect and even I would doubt the story given if I had to attend hospital with further injuries. So I chucked the bloody rubber band in the corner of the room and when asked at the next appointment how I got on with the exercise I simply lied.
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