Have you ever felt hungover just from stress?
Or from emotions running intense and high?
Well, yeah … that's where I am.
I'm wiped out, drained.
You guys were awesome yesterday. Your comments, emails, tweets … all made me feel like there really are good people in this world still. I'm sorry I haven't gotten back to each of you individually yet.
Did I mention I'm emotionally drained?
There are two parts to my break up with The Torturer. I'm trying to adjust to, and digest, both.
First, there's the fact I've lost my long-term physical therapist. Many of you have been lucky enough never to experience physical therapy. Physical therapy isn't 100% about the physical. When you go to PT for a long time, you develop a bond and trust and a relationship with your therapist. That relationship, if it's successful, is a mixture of mutual trust and respect and even more trust.
After all, you are letting someone physically hurt you. You have to be able to trust they'll do the right thing for you and also know not to hurt you too much.
(Something The Torturer has completely lost sight of this week.)
The professional bond is not usually severed as abruptly as in my situation.
I walked in the door of PT on Wednesday knowing I had a physical therapist I felt comfortable with and a few minutes later I no longer did. The unexpectedness of the situation sent me reeling with anxiety and fear over the physical welfare of my arm (and all of its adjacent body parts).
The Torturer would tell you I had the option to continue treatment at his facility. Perhaps, in his mind I did.
But … there was no option.
I will find another physical therapist. There are a zillion of them in Orange County and most of them take my insurance. It might take a week or two to find one I feel is a good fit, but I know I will. In fact, my shoulder surgeon read yesterday's post and emailed me with a few recommendations last night.
It was reassuring to hear from him. It sounds sappy, but my immediate thought was, "Well, at least someone still cares about my recovery."
I hope my insurance will continue to pay for PT when I make the change to a new practice. I know already, there's a very good chance they won't.
I'm shit out of luck.
Thank you for that Mr. Torturer.
Don't get me wrong.
I agree with The Torturer, Anthem Blue Cross is being One Gigantic Asshole. I also agree, The Torturer needs to do what he feels is best for his employees and his business.
I have no problem with any of that.
As I wrote yesterday, I have a problem with how this decision was handled on the patient end.
The second part of this situation, the truly painful part, is the friendship involved.
I've known The Torturer for nearly fifteen years.
It isn't something I've written about much here. I've shared with you the PT aspect of The Torturer, but not much about The Friendship aspect of The Torturer.
I suppose it goes without saying, losing him as a friend is the part that hurts the most.
He tried to tell me nothing has changed with us.
I don't know how he can say that?
(Did our friendship ever really exist in the first place? This is something I question constantly now.)
I knew the friendship was gone the minute I felt the door slam on my ass as I left on Wednesday.
I knew it again, with an intense and very painful jolt, when I read his email and text messages last night.
I think that's all I should say about the relationship aspect of this situation. Except, you know, it hurts on a personal level a lot.
I haven't mourned a friendship in a long time, and now – I am.
The Torturer left a comment on my post yesterday. If you didn't see it, you might be interested in going back and taking a look at what he had to say. Or maybe not. He also wrote me a long letter and asked me to use it as today's post. For a variety of reasons, I didn't feel it was appropriate to do so.
I'm not sure if I'll be posting this weekend. If not, I'll be back on Monday.
Also? I do have some very interesting news to share with you next week. It got upstaged by all the PT drama, but I really think you'll enjoy hearing about it.
Thank you again for all the kind words and virtual hugs.
You are so often a huge source of strength – thank you!
© Twenty Four At Heart