The Saga Continues

Not the potty training saga. The physical therapy saga.

Finally after nearly a year (really! holy cow!) of physcial therapy I mentioned to my GP that I still didn't feel like I was fixed. That there are days with a lot of pain and what I refer to as 'the weakness'. She is a sports med doc but said that there is another bloke in her office who is even more of a sports med geek than she, so she thought it would behoove me to have a visit with him.

I did, last week, and now have an appointment with a NEW physical therapist for 6:45am on Friday (yes, that reads A.M. - what I won't do to be fixed, I tell ya). This particular PT is a myofascial dude who is, in a sense, going to deep tissue massage the heck out of three particular trouble areas that seem to be holding me back. Something isn't allowing me to stay 'balanced' or in alignment for longer than an hour or so. The new doc thinks this may be the answer.

This is going to be painful. When people hear massage they think relaxing and yoga music and all that great stuff. Now, I love massages like that but I know all too well how this one is going to work. My lovely masseuse has done one or two of these for me in the past and I walk out of there feeling like she beat the crap out of me.

But someone has to break this connection that my muscle's have to the tissue. According to my new doc this guys is a miracle worker. We'll see.