Saturday, July 02, 2005


This is supposed to be an aviation blog, not an injury blog, but you fly the trips dispatch gives you, and this week mine is physiotherapy. In a word: wow.

My knowledge of physiotherapy comes from TV where the injured party spends long panful hours on complicated gym equipment, inspired by the Littlest Hobo, a budding love affair with the physiotherapist, or the need to seek vengeance or win the national championship. Plus I know someone who broke his leg badly, and he screamed during physio, said it was worse than the original injury. So I was looking forward to this with some trepidation.

My fears were utterly unfounded. It was like pilates: seemingly meaningless, easy exercises with a lot of emphasis on breathing and how you hold your stomach muscles. Much of what I have been doing instinctively was right: using my diaphram and posture to protect the injury site, while making gentle movements to retain and promote flexibility. Most of the exercises invlve lying on my back, doing "the dead bug". Flip a hard shelled beetle over and you get the idea, only less frenetic.

I feel fantastic right now. Still some pain, but the natural endorphins from the exercise are better than anything the doctors have prescribed. My ultimate aim is to achieve a level that will reduce my suceptibility to further back injury. Oh, and unlike the movies, my physiotherapist is not in the least hot.

1 comment:

Kris Johnson said...

My knowledge of physiotherapy comes from stories of the Six Million Dollar Man and other superheroes who suffered horrifying injuries but received treatment that gave them superhuman abilities.

So, if any secret government agents offer you bionic replacements or recommend exposure to some sort of radiation named after an unused letter of the Greek alphabet, I'd recommend accepting it.