Time for some physical therapy

I wasn’t quite sure at first why the plastic surgeon wanted me to see a physical therapist but I dutifully filled out the paper work and waited in a waiting room of people, many of whom clearly needed pain management and straightening out (literally) I was cheerfully met by Adrienne who took both Peter and I back through a myriad of machines that made the word torture ring in my head. She examined me and tested for my range of motion. You know the sort of thing. Arms up……well I can sort of get them skyward. Arms to the side….right one yes left one not so much, actually quite a bit of pain in the left one. Lay down on the massage table and let’s have a look. “Oh yes, you have something called auxiliary cording on the left side” ?????? Apparently, when lymph nodes are taken out sometimes sinuey stuff can get caught up and you end up feeling as if your tendons are as taut as piano wires. I’m sure I have not accurately explained this but long and short (ha ha) of this is that I have to stretch out these tendons with lots of massage and excercise. All of which hurts, hurts ,hurts. Oh just give me the bucket of pain pills, shut me in a sauna and let me stretch the crap out of them…. Sorry, just a tad frustrated. Why I keep expecting everything to be perfect, when it never is I just don’t know. By the way after having my boobs filled yesterday, my chest feels like Swarchzeneggers’ pecs……..

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