the physiotherapist

The Physiotherapist

I tore my Achilles tendon completely a month ago. This meant my left foot flails, with me unable to stand on both feet, balance or walk. I could hop, but it was an exhausting, nerve racking process (what if I fell again?) The fall also wrenched the muscles in the front of my left thigh. This meant the iliotibial band and the thigh muscles keep going into painful spasms.

After the orthopaedic surgeon put a heavy plaster cast up to mid thigh, knee flexed and ankle flexed (can’t walk or balance at all), he told me to exercise to keep the strength and tone up in the muscles. I tried for two days. Leg lifts were impossible. The leg with the heavy cast had a mind of its own. It veered off sideways and then landed with a heavy thump on the bed. Sometimes it got caught under the bed. I dropped one of the arm weights and it rolled under the bed. I had to stop till the domestic arrived and fished it out with a broom. This was not working.

I decided to have professional physiotherapy. I could go to the rehab center in CMC where I would definitely get excellent treatment-----but---- I had to be transported down seven steps  to the car. Someone had to drive me there----. So I decided on home physio. A very fit young man with a flat stomach arrived with a bag full of instruments of torture.

He came at a different time every day. Since I just sit or lie around the house all day (Tata Sky and Amazon Prime are life savers), it didn’t make a difference to me. Finally I asked him.

“Why does your time keep changing?”

“I am supposed to see another elderly lady before you,” he said, “ She sometimes doesn’t  wake up. After that, She refuses to exercise without bath and breakfast.”

Another client apparently fought with him every day .” Why should I pay you? You don’t do anything except pull my hands and legs up and down till they pain. Why do you keep saying stand, sit, left, right ? it is very confusing. At least do the exercises in front of me so I can follow you.”

Since his balance was a problem and the physiotherapist had to stand next to him to make sure he did not fall down, this was not really an option.

I need strong arms now to use the crutches and the walker. So he makes me do dumbbells. They weigh around 2 kg each and he makes me flail them around like a school sports day drill.

Encouraged by my heroic efforts, he took them to the next client as well. The next day he arrived with a bandaged foot.

“What happened?” I asked.

“I was about to start the exercises, so I gave the lady a dumbbell to hold. Lift it up over your head “ I said. Instead she dropped it on my foot---.”