In a fantasy death match, who would win…private Physioterrorpist or an NHS one? From today’s experience, my money is on the privateer.
This morning I had hydrotherapy in a private pool, followed by acupuncture and hands-on ankle wrestling. I knew she’d drawn blood when I heard the matter of fact query, “any problems with your blood clotting?” Apparently my calf muscle is no fan of the ancient Chinese medicinal arts. Then I was strapped up with muscle relaxing kinetic tape.
Later, I was with an NHS physio at the local hospital, who quizzed me about the “K tape” on my leg. I revealed it was from a private physio and she scurried off to consult with a higher being; an NHS manager, and returned to say I can’t do both private and NHS, as it’ll ruin the official statistics. Then she got me to stand on one leg and close my eyes. Am I meant to think of a happy place now I thought? Then she disappeared again for 15 minutes whilst I sat in a sweat box with a building site next door practising audio torture with a drill. She returned with some printed exercises and suggested I can come back and stand on one leg if I ditch the private physio.
Yep, you get what you pay for…or rather, you pay for both in different ways.