Wednesday, November 29, 2006
THE POOL OF PAIN AND OTHER PLEASANTRIES........
Ahh the sweet pangs of muscular pain.
There's nothing quite like testing to see just how far you can push muscle groups, which have been cut up and sewn back together is there?
A bit like when you get in touch with your inner moron and stretch rubber bands to see how far you can stress them before they snap, and usually end up causing yourself some form of pain.
My first day back at physio and hydro went about as well as I'd expected, that is to say about as painful as I'd imagined it would be.
The aquatic treatment was pretty good though.
The more I attend hydro therapy, the more it appears to take on the atmosphere of a bath house, not the pain factory it is supposed to be.
A lot of hanging around and talking to other patients, not without performing the prescribed exercises of course, but none the less a lot of:
"Did you hear about Ange? He's got to wait another two years to get his ankle sorted."
or
"Looks like I have to get a complete knee replacement, but I have to wait until March next year."
or
"Yeah, they had to remove the plate that I'd broken coz my femur busted again and also realign the hip joint by 10 degrees."
All that stuff that you just aren't supposed to utter in polite conversation for fear of making someone queasy or uncomfortable.
It's rather refreshing to be able to have those conversations with people who are all chewing through their own various road trauma related injuries with as much gusto as a Tasmanian Devil tucking into a piece of rotting 3 day old road kill.
I'm thinking of getting a bunch of us to lobby for an espresso machine to be installed by the swimming pool.
There is a certain understanding, comprehension and empathy between these people.
A type of club with thousands of members, which doesn't discriminate at all as to who is eligible to join.
Unfortunately in order to gain entry to this club, one must go through a trying and painful initiation and many have died trying.
Hopefully none have been chewed by Tasmanian Devils in the process.
Only the strong and extremely lucky survive to partake in the chewing of the fat in the pool of pain.
Found this little fella doing laps around our house this afternoon.
I think it might have been the one that actually took me from the cricket oval to the hospital that fine March morning.
If you find yourself in one of these you may well be on your way to joining the club.
.
There's nothing quite like testing to see just how far you can push muscle groups, which have been cut up and sewn back together is there?
A bit like when you get in touch with your inner moron and stretch rubber bands to see how far you can stress them before they snap, and usually end up causing yourself some form of pain.
My first day back at physio and hydro went about as well as I'd expected, that is to say about as painful as I'd imagined it would be.
The aquatic treatment was pretty good though.
The more I attend hydro therapy, the more it appears to take on the atmosphere of a bath house, not the pain factory it is supposed to be.
A lot of hanging around and talking to other patients, not without performing the prescribed exercises of course, but none the less a lot of:
"Did you hear about Ange? He's got to wait another two years to get his ankle sorted."
or
"Looks like I have to get a complete knee replacement, but I have to wait until March next year."
or
"Yeah, they had to remove the plate that I'd broken coz my femur busted again and also realign the hip joint by 10 degrees."
All that stuff that you just aren't supposed to utter in polite conversation for fear of making someone queasy or uncomfortable.
It's rather refreshing to be able to have those conversations with people who are all chewing through their own various road trauma related injuries with as much gusto as a Tasmanian Devil tucking into a piece of rotting 3 day old road kill.
I'm thinking of getting a bunch of us to lobby for an espresso machine to be installed by the swimming pool.
There is a certain understanding, comprehension and empathy between these people.
A type of club with thousands of members, which doesn't discriminate at all as to who is eligible to join.
Unfortunately in order to gain entry to this club, one must go through a trying and painful initiation and many have died trying.
Hopefully none have been chewed by Tasmanian Devils in the process.
Only the strong and extremely lucky survive to partake in the chewing of the fat in the pool of pain.
Found this little fella doing laps around our house this afternoon.
I think it might have been the one that actually took me from the cricket oval to the hospital that fine March morning.
If you find yourself in one of these you may well be on your way to joining the club.
.
