Feel the burn.

Had a good physical therapy session yesterday because I made sure I had the good physical therapist. Before I left for vacation, I called the rehab center to ask who they had scheduled me with for my next appointments and they told me Dee (names have been changed to protect the innocent or, rather, the crap physical therapist). I asked if I could please be scheduled with Jack (names have been changed to protect the good physical therapist). The receptionist asked why and I told her that while Dee is very, very, very nice, she hurts me every time I see her. The woman just doesn't think when she's doing stuff and she ends up wrenching my knee around like the crank on an old victrola. I also explained that Dee had admitted to me that she doesn't have much experience with my injury and she's always asking Jack what to do, so it makes sense to just go with Jack. The receptionist asked me if I was the same person who had called the day before and I said, "No." Then I asked her if someone else called in to complain, but she wouldn't spill the beans. Anyway, I went in yesterday and got a good two-hour workout with weights and everything and my knee is slightly swollen which has to be good, right? That means it's getting a good working over.

One of the other mothers at my daugther's taekwondo class belongs to a ghost tracking club and I'm going to go to the next meeting to see if I can catch a ghost. I've always found the supernatural interesting and I've always wanted to see a ghost just to see what it's like. I'll be scared shitless, but it'll be something to tell the grandkids.