It's a Trap, and I'm Walking Right In

When I arrived at my first physical therapy appointment today, the receptionist (I think her name is Maria) asked if I was ready to be tortured. I laughed nervously and bantered back, "You don't supposed she'll just give me a parafin bath and call it a day?" "No, probably not," she laughed back.

Her laugh sounded real, and like she was genuinely amused. Mine sounded like I was high on Vicodin. Because I kind of was.

Guess what my certified hand therapist, Mary, did right after measuring my range of motion and my grip strength? She had me do a parafin bath! I kid you not.

Then she manipulated my joints, gently, no big deal. And she gave me a finger sock (think finger girdle) to reduce/prevent swelling. The treatment session finished with wrapping my hand in a soothing ice pack for a few minutes.

This is what therapists do the first session. They make you feel like you've been to the spa. Makes it so you'll come back for the real deal the next time. And it is totally working, because now that I know parafin baths and ice wraps are involved, I'm willing to do anything to get in line!