Thursday, November 21, 2013

Falling down the stairs and magical reflex therapy.

I am not a graceful person. Sure, I did ballet (see photo), and I was pretty good at doing the right dance steps on the right beat. But it never looked pretty. I'm also very close friends with gravity, and I've taken some mighty tumbles over the past few years.

Having been self-employed for my entire adult life and always having an individual health insurance policy, I have made a habit of just "getting over it." I don't go to the doctor because it's never been bad enough to justify the cost. So when I fell down some stairs back in June, I just tried to get over it.

Here's a picture of the bruise on my butt. Yes, I'm aware that I'm posting a picture of my butt on the internet, but I'm pretty proud of this gorgeous bruise. It was the size of a large apple, and it HURT.

That was several months ago. This week my friend Carrie finally talked me into going to a Physical Therapist (she actually called him because I'm a nervous introvert who hates the phone) because I whine a lot about how my back hurts, and I walk like Quasimodo when I first get out of bed. So I gave in and went because I'm not ready to have a hip replacement (though when I do, I'm totally going to Thailand because the cost of a surgery and 7-night stay at the hospital in Thailand is still less than my deductible/excess).

Anyway, this PT did weird magical things with my reflexes and muscles. He didn't do any scary cracks or pops, but he tapped on my neck a few times and suddenly my hip crackled a bit and went back into place. Apparently, they were completely turned the wrong way and stuck there because my muscles are all too tight (why then, is my butt not rock-hard???).

I'm doing my at-home exercises religiously because I can feel my hips trying to go back to Quasimodoville, and I much prefer being able to stand up straight.

Now I have to figure out what to do now that I can't complain about my back.

No comments:

Post a Comment