I’ve begun physical therapy.
I had my “evaluation” which was a big fat joke.
But Caroline, why was it a big fat joke?
Because, readers, I had no idea how messed up my ankle was.
Just for kicks, let’s do a pseudo-evaluation together.
Stand up…
Good.
Now balance on your left foot.
Hold it.
Hold it.
How does that feel? Are you a little wobbly? That’s okay.
Put your foot down.
NOW.
Let’s balance on our right foot.
Can you do it?
SHOW OFF.
People: I CANNOT STAND ON MY RIGHT FOOT UNSUPPORTED.
So I held on to a wall with one hand, and the bed with the other,
And I could barely stand on that foot.
Also of note: it was wobbling violently.
Also wanted: a shirt that reads “I wobble violently.”
(because that would be awesome)
At any rate, I’m supposed to go to physical therapy three times a week.
bah-ha-ha-ha.
JOKE’S ON YOU MOONBOUNCE.
I can’t think of anything I’d like to do more than pay $50 per visit for physical therapy.
Okay, in reality this stinks, and I’m supposed to go in 3x’s a week, but really, I’m only going to go in once a week.
Because HELLO CO-PAY.
(This would be a good time to be Canadian.)
