Yesterday I had my first “land therapy” session. Holy moley. You don’t know what pain is until you’ve had a man sit on your foot while he’s forcing your knee down on a table.
I can see that the PTs who were coming to my house weren’t really pushing me the way I really needed. My surgeon said I’m losing the straight line in my surgical knee, and when I told them, they just sort of shrugged: “You’re going back to therapy, right?”
The therapist was apologetic. “Most people go home and curse me in their sleep, so I’m used to it.” I told him no, I wanted things to get better and I appreciated his effort. But man, it hurt.
