It seems my physical therapist has a sense of humor and he’s got a touch of adhd for sure. I like him but I have to torture him. I’ve got to whip out some of my tricks to make my visits with this character more interesting.
We do my physical therapy to music. Music will be my first weapon. This is a 20-something guy who parties after work. He’s a young spunky thing who will not appreciate show tunes, opera or polka. Today we listened to Jacques Brel sing Ne me quitte pas followed by – Jacques Brel singing -Madeleine. Yup, I went French polka on him! This coming Thursday I’m going to treat him to a few numbers from Yentl. I’m about to do Papa Can You Hear Me.
When asked why I purposely choose music I know is screeching madness to his ears my answer was simple: if I have to suffer so do you. He was like, why? I said, cause those are the house rules. You come to my house and work me like a dog and make me suffer and you’re going to pay for it. Don’t play the ‘its my job’ card cause I don’t want to hear it.
By the time this man leaves I’m in so much pain that I’m nearly in tears, literally. This stuff hurts but at least I have a physical therapist that I can torture with show tunes and the like. It’s just another way to make my situation more manageable.
If you have suggestions for songs you know a 20-something partier won’t like, please leave the name. If it’s painful enough I’ll include it in my Physical Therapy playlist on iTunes.
Ooooooh….. Celine Dion, My Heart Will Go On. That’s down right cruel.