I had
my first physical therapy appointment related to my neck issues yesterday. It was kind of frustrating knowing that the
therapy wasn’t really going to do any good as far as the core problem behind
the pain was concerned. But maybe it would
ease up some muscles enough to take some of the pressure off the nerves.
I
started them off by totally confusing the young man working the front
desk. How? I just started explaining Samaritan
Ministries protocol. No, it’s not
insurance. It’s a medical share plan (That’s the “official designation”). I asked for the specific documentation I
needed, but by then he was so mixed up he had forgotten that he had already
offered to give them to me once, then pulled them back. It wasn’t until the therapist came up there
with me after the appointment and referred to it as a “co-op” that the kid
finally handed me off to a more experienced clerk who had just arrived for
work. Realizing what I was asking for,
she called her supervisor, who told her not to give me the document. Instead I would have to call the billing
department. I actually did that when I
got home, by the way, and it sounded like they knew right away exactly what I would
need. I’m to expect it in three to five
business days. We’ll see. I did get a pretty substantial discount for
self-pay, though.
So
the appointment …
I liked
the therapist. She seemed to really know
her stuff. Something about a bundle of
nerves all coming together at the same spot and then branching back out
again. I don’t know. I chose to forego the Anatomy and Physiology
class in college in favor of one called Coaching Athletics. That said, I felt like what I have always
imagined it would be like in a chiropractor’s office (Although I have never been to a chiropractor). After all the preliminary paperwork, she
moved around behind me and said that the distance from my spine to my left
shoulder blade was around two inches.
The distance to the right shoulder blade, however, was closer to six
inches. That seemed a little extreme,
even to a skeptic like me. She said the
goal for the day was to get that a little closer to even. That led to some poking and prodding and
squeezing and deep breathing. I found
out I breathe from my diaphragm, but she needed me to breathe from my lungs. I finally did it right, and she proceeded to
pump all the perfectly good air out of the lung I had just filled up. Strange.
She apparently knew some acupressure points as well. Every now and then she would just push down
in a specific spot with her finger and hold it.
Nothing really hurt. And it didn’t
feel like a massage, either. Did it do
any good? I couldn’t tell you. I can’t see my back in a mirror to measure
the shoulder blade distances. I have
some homework assignments before next week.
I have to raise my computer keyboard (I lowered my chair instead).
And I have to stop what I’m doing every hour and do some shrugging
exercises she showed me. She closed out the
session by saying, “Those muscles on the right side of your neck really
tight. I mean, really tight. I could play guitar on them puppies.” Well, there you go.
1
John 4:9 says, “This is how God showed his
love among us: he sent his one and only Son into the world that we might live
through him.”
Father,
thank you for the chance to ease my neck-guitar muscles. That sounds better than having the therapist
play a tune on them. Amen.
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