There are two things that you need to know about my physical therapy. The first is that it is almost over. I only have five more appointments. I am walking much better.

The second is that there is a woman working there who is trying to kill me. She isn't there all of the time; I think she comes and helps out from one of their other offices. The first time I met her, she was assigned to give me "ice and stim," where they prop my foot up, wrap it in an ice pack, and affix these little electrical stimulators to my damaged ligaments as a way to exercise them without movement. She was talking to another patient while she was doing this and somehow turned the stim machine up so high that it was exceedingly painful, and I spent a good few minutes getting her attention to make her turn it down. I was sore from that incident for the next couple of days, and since it is optional, I have never again gotten "ice and stim" - especially when she is there.

This morning, she was assigned to move my foot around. The point of this is that the damage to my ligaments may have caused the bones in my ankle to shift around, and they stretch my foot out to try and align everything properly. The head physical therapist (a very nice person, who has never caused me undue pain) usually does this, and he is very gentle and it doesn't hurt. This woman yanked on my foot so hard that I thought it would fall off. Then despite determining that one part of my ankle was especially sore, she continued to push on it until she "popped" my ankle bone back into its proper place - so she says. I'm not sure I notice any difference. Even worse, she told me the bone might move again, and need to popped in the future. I am hoping she will not be there if this happens.

This was a particularly bad day to go "popping" my ankle bones in any case, because I brought my car to the shop for some strange noises, which means I got to work the old-fashioned train and bus way. At least I got to test out my new iPod headphones...