A Physical Experience

It is a painful experience to have a slipped disc. Though all the doctors said what I had was a minor slipped disc, the pain didn't feel so. I went through the rigors of a general physician, medication, an orthopedic surgeon, more medication, an MRI and then finally a physiotherapist. And this is where my story starts.

The orthopedic referred me to a “Really good physiotherapist with Yoga knowledge” in my city. I promptly took her appointment for consultations and asked for directions to her clinic. I was given complicated directions ending with a walk in a gap between two buildings. When I reached there on time, with my wife waiting in the car in a no parking zone, I found that the Physiotherapist was sharing the clinic with a Psychiatrist on time share basis. There were three small beds in one room with no partitions. The beds were of the width of an examination bench. For the doctor there was a table & chair with two chairs for the victims, I mean patients. On one of the chairs was sitting, I later found out, a salesman. He was selling some kind of heating pads. The Physiotherapist was on the phone reminiscing about her college days with some professional colleague. It seems she was checking references of the salesman and the product. After the call she was more excited than the salesman. The Physiotherapist was expected to sell these pads to her patients and earn some commission on the sales. I was so nonplussed that I don’t remember whether I was left standing or was sitting on one of the beds.

While I waited for the next 20 minutes or so listening to the business transaction, in walked the Psychiatrist. He was immediately marked as the first likely prospect by the Physiotherapist. The Psychiatrist admitted that in the opinion of his wife, he is a soft target for all salesmen and he buys anything and everything that he is offered. So much for learning the science of Psychiatry. When the salesman realized that he could notch up a big sale to the Psychiatrist, he started pitching for the same “commission” offer to him. The Physiotherapist put an immediate stop to this encroachment on her sales territory, curtly telling the salesman that the Psychiatrist was her customer.

After this deal was through, I was ushered to the patient’s chair and the Physiotherapist stood around loudly reading my medical file to all those present there and beyond. She had to stand because the Doctor’s chair was now occupied by the Psychiatrist. At the end of the public reading of my ailments and the treatment suggested, she called her assistant and asked me to lie down on the bed. The assistant rolled up his sleeves and started approaching me. At this point, I had enough. While listening with one ear to the Psychiatrist's patient's woes, I politely suggested that it would be only proper for me to know what the treatment was going to be, before my body was dismembered and disposed of. With a look of infinite patience, the Physiotherapist explained that I will be taught some simple exercises and in five such sessions I should expect substantial relief from my pain. I told her I will come back the next day with sufficient time on my hand so that I don’t have to worry about my wife being arrested for parking in No Parking zone right in front of a Police Station.

Now comes the most surprising part. I did go for the treatment the next day onwards! As for results, the verdict is still out. Will update soon.