The Underground Devil

Physical Therapy, Early Mornings, and Jesus

For those of you better aquainted with my personal life, as of recently I've had problems with my shoulder. First, I went to my primary physician, who sent me to an orthopedist, who sent me to a physical therapist. (A word for physical therapists - they are 10 times smarter than the orthopedist.) This morning, at the lovely late hour of 7 AM, I had my second phyiscal therapy appointment.

I had a different therapist than my first visit, due to tight scheduling, and I expected her to do what the first had - force me to move my right arm in various shoulder crackingly painful positions and then say, "Oh, does that hurt?" Today, I was happily surprised. The therapist lay me out on one of the beds and placed her hand on my shoulder. Hardly any pressure. She held it there for a moment. I waited for something to happen. "Yep," she said "I can feel a lot of displacement in here." "What??" I exclaimed, surprised."You can feel displacement just from touching my shoulder? Oh man, that's so cool." She smiled. I thought for a second. "Wait," I said, "What is displacement?"

Prior appointments and doctors had not given me very definitive answers in the Seriously Guys, What the Hell is Wrong With Me category, but this lady, whoooo boy, she knew her stuff. She moved her hand around my shoulder and back, very lightly, applying slight pressure. "How does the top of your hand feel?" she'd say, and then I'd feel a tingling sensation on the top of my hand. "How do you do that??" I asked incredulously. "Well," she said "I can feel the muscle response a few seconds before you."

She explained in far more simple terms that not only do I have muscle issues, I have nerve issues. Pinched nerve issues. Loose ligament issues. And tracking issues? Apparently, my shoulder joint connection isn't in the right place. Which explains why the shoulder bone itself is pushed forward. But back to my story.

We talked, she asked me about my life, about school, and we discussed our favorite books. I divulged that I was an English major with a passion for all things literary. She continued moving her hand around my shoulder, causing tingling sensations down my arm, back, and up my neck (where all my muscle damage lies). It feels like when you hit your funny bone, only all over. And not painful, but relieving. I asked her how exactly she was able to perform such a feat, because "I'm giving you two very enthusiastic thumbs up". She asked me if I had any science background, a question I responded to with a hearty chuckle, and then went on to explain something about nerve brain connections with the spinal column and shortening things. Basically, it didn't explain anything. "So," I said, "What you're basically saying to me, is that with my English major's leaning towards the fantastic, what you're doing is magic." She smiled.

That got me to thinking. Apparently, these fantastic feats can be taught in a school. And smart people can make my boo boos feel tingly with a light pressure on a certain point. Which is kind of dissapointing if I really was one to believe in magic. Which I'm not. But anyway, like I was saying, this kind of thing is purely muscle related, and knowledge of this must date back. Waaay back. Back somewhere right after dinosaurs walked the earth but before Jesus. Because there were always healers. So if Jesus, and others, were faith healers, isn't my phsyical therapist doing the same thing? So in a really obscure way, isn't my physical therapist a bit like Jesus? Of course, this is purely blasphemous conjecture from a nonpracticing Jew, but it sure is fun to talk about Jesus.

But still. I think my phsyical therapist could give Jesus a good run for his money.

Also, if I wasn't Jewish, I'd absolutely be going to hell for this post. Thankfully, Jews have the good sense not to believe in enternal damnation and hellfire. Jewish mothers take care of that kind of suffering in life. (Dear Mom, please don't kill me. I was making a general statement.)

(An afterthought: I really need to finish reading The Da Vinci Code, the most poorly written page turner of all time, just so I can stop thinking about Jesus. Thanks Dan Brown, really, thanks. You big jerk. GET OUT OF MY HEAD)

posted by A Disturbingly Cynical College Student @ 10:18 AM