When I hurt my back and neck in August, never did I imagine I would end up having to go to physical therapy twice a week just to attempt to make it better. While at times I feel old and decrepit, I figured I was far too young to fuck my back for life just by turning my head to the left- but I guess my body feels otherwise. Not that I can really blame it, carrying two miniature humans is nothing to sneeze at and can be hell on a body even months or years after they come ripping out of your nethers.
I wasn’t really sure what to expect with physical therapy, being as how the only thing i’ve ever done is broken a bone and in my case, as a 2nd grader, it didn’t require rehab.
How exactly did they plan on working out the center of my back and my neck? My neck doesn’t have arms to weight lift with and doing an enormous amount of squats certainly didn’t seem like it was going to help.
What I SHOULD have expected and didn’t was the age of the other people also getting physical therapy. I was informed of this as I sat down to take a piss in the waiting room bathroom before I had it squeezed out of me (that old bladder just ain’t what it used to be)- and was greeted by a lovely poster of a very old man lifting a toddler- and a caption saying something along the lines of
“Wanting to be able to support your grandchildren?”
My pee stopped in its tracks. Likely out of anger.
Thanks for that, old people poster. Just what I need, a kidney stone from holding my pee.
The waiting room full of folks old enough to have given birth to my parents didn’t do much to help either. Was I going to witness someone break a hip? I didn’t want to see an old person fall down, there’s just nothing funny about old people falling. Kids absolutely, they bounce.
Another thing to be known is that physical therapy IS NOT FUN. There is a reason you’re there if you’re there, and they are going to attempt to beat it out of you, stretch you in medieval torture devices, or put you in a corner like they did to me. I guess they didn’t want me giggling at the old people on the hand bicycles. WHAT?? IT’S FUNNY!
It was when they hooked me up to a zapper that I wondered what I had really gotten myself into. Old people and electro-shock?? This was beginning to sound like one of those old folks homes you hear about in the news after they get busted by the cops for abuse or drug smuggling.
If it weren’t for the eye-candy… I might have ran out of the door before they strapped me down and shoved a bedpan under my ass.
WHAT? I’m a lonely old housewife, I get my jollies whenever and however I can- and if i’m going to be put through a hellish obstacle course and then zapped on my spine like a doc running into an invisible fence, I should be allowed to drool over Hotty McDoctor and his sexy ass employee.
The next 6 weeks may be hard on my back… but it is NOT going to be hard on my eyes.
Me: Man, my toy allergy eyes are bad today Kids: What? Me: Yeah,if I see any of your crap on my floor I'll have a reaction and THROW IT AWAY
@AmericHousewife it's cute you think I'll survive to them turning that age!
Oh, you're really in for it! pic.twitter.com/xXzFxhlxRJ
Spring into Spring-a-Palooza at Great Wolf lodge! goo.gl/fb/Ey9QEb
Vodka might rhyme with Friday, but what rhymes with Tuesday is "SHUT THE HELL UP AND LET ME HAVE MY COFFEE!"
Am I a "housewife"? Technically yes. Do I do "housewife" things? UM. NO. I fail. holdinholden.com/2014/08/i-am…
7yo: what's a colon? 9yo: it's the top of a smiley face Husband: ...and the inside of your butthole Me: *deep sigh*