The Ambivalence of Physio or Physio’s Progress

As you all know, Mum enjoys writing poetry. But lately it’s become somewhat of a cathartic activity for her as she comes to terms with the long-term implications of her stroke.

In particular, Mum has been struggling with the purpose of physio when she’s suffering from so much neuropathic pain. After a particularly bad day at the end of last week, she wrote the following poem about trying to focus on the bigger picture of physio and what you can do rather than what you can’t.

The Ambivalence of Physio or Physio’s Progress

Just inside is the plinth of pain
For knee squats and toe raises again and again
On bad days we call it the table of torment
As muscles scream out in total sore-ment
At the very back is the bench of brutality
Where you stand and you balance to regain normality
How many you do is the physio’s whim
But the way they count is simply a sin
“99-50 oh you’re halfway there
If you don’t want to do it they’ll give you THE stare
You said you’d do 100
Yes that’s probably true
But you didn’t expect to do 50 more too.

 And yet…

 Just inside is the plinth of progress
With knee squats and toe raises you must press
On good days we call it the table of triumph
As it strengthens our muscles we stop being defiant
At the very back is the Bench of betterment
Where you can for stand for four minutes; now that ‘s a testament
To The girls in physio who work hard, that’s no lie
To make our mobility as easy as pie
The least you can do in sessions is try
You never know, one day you may fly