Pain? Punishment? Persecution? What was that P supposed to stand for? Oh yes, it’s supposed to be *physical* therapy. Refuge of unadmitted S&M enthusiasts, that’s the world of PT. First of all, I would have worn better undergarments if I had known that I would essentially have to disrobe for the experience. The “therapist” started me off with a relatively low intensity ordeal – he attached large electrode pads to my back and neck, draped my neck in a big heating pad and had me sit back and “relax”. The electrodes were attached to a machine straight out Young Frankenstein that was set to send undulating waves of electricity through my muscles, causing them to contract on their own which provided an exceedingly odd sensation. The heat from the neck wrap was pleasant enough to almost offset the effects of the electro-shock therapy.

After about ten minutes of that activity, which was deceptively near-enjoyable, the real work began. My head was placed into a contraption that could have come straight from the workshop of any evil villain – a minimally padded black neck harness was wrenched into position and tightened into my skull (ok, so it only felt like the bolts went right into the bone). The purpose of this device was to stretch my neck – just like on a rack, only this one required no human intervention. My neck was pulled, which consisted of pressing the harness thing into the bones behind my ears, for about 10 seconds at a time and then I had a .05 second break before the cycle started again. This went on for fifteen fucking minutes! (Actually, I only lasted about 12 minutes before I hit the emergency ejector button and released myself from the confines of the harness.) Maybe they can just place a giant suction cup on the top of my head next time and weigh my shoulders down with cinder blocks – the effect would be about the same.

Once that torture was complete, the “therapist” massaged my neck and back, alternately pressing his thumbs into my vertebrae and then into my shoulder blade. The final indignity was 6 minutes on a stationary arm-bike, which was easy, but not something that should be done in a dress.

I’m really looking forward to the next round of torment on Wednesday.