I thought deceit was reserved for recruiters and detailers, but I was wrong.
Physical therapists lie too – even the civilian ones. My therapist seems like a nice guy, but everything that comes out of his mouth is a bold faced lie.
“This won’t hurt much.”
“You are doing great!”
“We’re almost done.”
“One more.”
Let’s see.
Lie.
Lie.
Lie.
Lie.
He seems so convincing when he lies to me. I see the machines. I remember how badly the exercises hurt the last time. And still I follow him, despite the evidence right before my eyes.
Maybe it is pathological. Maybe he can’t help himself. Perhaps he has a pitiful need to inflict pain and will say anything to coerce me into a new contortion. Maybe he is on a pain quota system and he is using me to get caught up.
Do you know what really torches me? He smiles a lot, even when he is deceiving me. The outside observer might describe him as “friendly” or a “good coach”, but I know better.
What he says he does not mean. His assurances, his atta boys don’t mean a thing, unless they are PT code for “I am going to bend your knee farther than the human body is designed to tolerate.”
Today my wife and daughter sat in on the physical therapy session and got to see his treachery in full bloom. As I cried out in agony, victim to yet another of his deceptions, I glanced over at them. Surely they would understand that I was a victim and not a patient. Do you know what they were doing?
They were laughing at me.
Oh, he’s good. He’s very good.
