The physical therapy office is a very busy place. in the vast open area there are always at least half a dozen people exercising their knees or shoulders. Off to the side people have their necks or legs massaged on long tables. On the opposite side of the space is the hand treatment table, where I work and am worked on.
Yesterday, I was very proud of all the work I had done last weekend, but, in the world of physical therapy, one never knows what one may be up against.
To my right, at the hand/wrist table: Rose.
bb: Nice to meet you, Rose! That's a mighty long incision on your arm...what happened?
Rose: I had a torn ligament and it just wouldn't heal and they realized that my arm bone needed to be cut...
bb: LA LALALALA! SORRY ROSE, THAT SOUNDS AWFUL...PLEASE STOP TALKING.
To my left: Obi, who is working on his left pinkie.
bb: Obi, eh? Cool name. What are you in for?
Obi (who is about 6'6" and 250lbs): I fell off my bike and shattered and dislocated my pinkie! It was such a mess! You wouldn't believe how bad it looked. So swollen!
bb (for the record: five wrist fractures, four fingers dislocated, broken bone at the base of the thumb, broken middle finger on right hand, two inch steel plate, seven screws, countless stitches):
Oh, yeah? That's all you got?
guy between me and Rose, icing his middle finger: what happened to you?
bb: I was in a Vespa accident...
guy: Really?! What kind of Vespa?
bb:...A blue one?
Yesterday I tied my shoes.