The last ever physio…

As I have mentioned before in this blog I am privileged to have private healthcare. A part of this has been the physio that I have been receiving since I had my operation. The insurance company have been brilliant, and every time my physio has requested more treatment time they have given it to her. The last ‘batch’ of 8 physio sessions came to an end last week. This means that after today’s  session I am not covered to receive any more physio. This will only change if I have further interventions of some sort.

My physio told me that there is one insurance company that expect her to treat all their patients in an average of five and a half sessions. She told me it is extremely hard to achieve this as all the cases she sees are either the severe fractures or complex cases. As my physio was being authorised in batches of 6 or 8, I could see what she meant. I feel really lucky that I have had as much physio  I have and can’t quite believe that this is the final one.

We start the consultation with a review of progress. For the last few months I haven’t been seeing her as frequently as at first so she likes to assess my progress.

‘Let’s have a look at how you are getting on then’, she said. I stand in front of her with my back to her and show her how high I can lift my arm in front, to the side and then up my back. She bends it at the elbow to see  what rotation I have. ‘Hmm, it is still very stiff, still not much rotation there’. Its a glum moment. We test the strength which is good – I put that down to the swimming.

‘OK. Let’s stretch it today and see where we get to’. So I lay down and she gets on with stretching my arm and we chat. It is quite a relationship we have got – we talk about kids, work, stresses – house training ( don’t ask) and I would like to think that we have a good camaraderie. After all, I have been seeing her for nearly a year and we have followed each others lives for that time. As I lie there, chatting away as usual, I think how I am sorry that our journeys together are coming to an end and that I won’t get to hear the next instalment of her life. Like a soap opera, there are unanswered questions!

When she finishes I sit at the desk and, instead of making the next appointment as usual,  I tell her that I am due to see the lovely Mr F in March.

‘OK,  I will make a note to talk to him before you see him, at that consultation you will have to discuss options’ she says.

My mind races; options – what does that mean?

I stand up to go. This is it then, a final goodbye.  ‘ I am not going to say goodbye as I have a feeling I might be seeing you again’, I say.


‘Yes. I have a feeling you might as well’.



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