I am relieved to report that I have had my first brush with professional athlete fame at the Steadman Clinic here in Vail. Yes sports fans, my newest friend is none other than legendary Tennessee Titans linebacker, David Thornton, who at 260 lbs
is rather svelte for such a role. Those of you who know me well will no doubt be asking, "Hey Lorna, you don't even watch NFL so how do you know who Thornton is?" Excellent question, well you see I saw a 6'4" African American man with a very expensive watch hobble into the Clinic, so naturally I asked Paul (he's sort of a junior wannabe therapist who helps swap pillow cases and put the Game Ready ice machine on your injury when required), whether the said gentleman was someone famous. Paul told me that indeed he was none other than Tennessee Titans own David Taylor. I immediately ceased my wall slides and reached for my iPhone to Google him but the only David Taylor I could find was a 60 year old retired white guy.
After much huffing and puffing into my browser, I finally found a photo of a linebacker named David Thornton, and made the match by comparing the photo to the gentleman sweating next to me, and thanks to my keen visual identification abilities was positive I had found my athlete. I would later tell Paul that his name is Thornton not Taylor, and that he does indeed play for the Titans.
My PT for the morning was Lindsay, and although she looked familiar, it wasn't until we were well into our PT session that I remembered meeting her 2 years ago and disliking her rough and to my mind uncaring style. Bedside manner is an important component in a successful PT-Patient relationship and once again Lindsay proved to have none. For example, Lindsay didn't even offer to help remove my shoes, which may seem like a little thing but my friends when you are wedged into a straight leg brace with no ability to bend, and wearing athletic shoes that require manipulation to be taken off, it is an act of aggression to not even offer. Similarly, she showed no empathy when massaging my wound to encourage the flow of blood and the sharp pains that shot up and down my leg were difficult to mask. I made it through the session, my poor knee none the better for it, and asked David to please change my schedule to avoid further Lindsay treatments.
I did manage to mount the rowing machine and complete 30 minutes of one legged rowing with braced foot in a pillow case sliding along the plexi-glass floor mat as I did so. My new friend Mr. Thornton took note although I pretended not to be aware of his impressed glance in this cripple's direction.
Lunch was enjoyed at Up The Creek, a delightful restaurant where we were seated near a table of chubby Texan blondes drinking wine spritzers ("Can ye'all put sum Spr-eye-it in et to sweetin' et up jest a tuch?"). The rubenesque women flirted as best they could with the two gentlemen at the table next to them and did an excellent job of convincing one another to order most of the available items on the appetizer menu, including the "calamaw-ree with that yemmy saw-ess, don't y'all jess lu-uv dippin' et in et?."
As David rolled me back to the hotel for some post-lunch rest, various kind strangers stopped me to share their knee stories. One woman said she had had 20 surgeries and was now wearing titanium replacements which she proudly pranced on for me to see. Another had 4 surgeries and was now happy, while a sour faced woman asked if anyone had bumped into me yet and when I said no, she almost seemed disappointed and warned me that it would happen because "folks are just so clueless sometimes." Finally, an elderly couple approached me, the husband wore an oxygen tank and plastic nostril tubes were affixed to his nose and secured behind his ears as they enjoyed their midday stroll. The wife stopped to pat my hand and ask me if anyone had told me that breaking legs was really only intended to be a winter time injury (ha ha) so I should just hurry up and get better quickly. Oh the comraderie is simply heart warming.
Dinner out at my suggestion took us to Nowzawa Sushi in the Holiday Inn Express on the Frontage Road. We had to wait a while for a table at the bustling and charmless restaurant because per our waitress, the bus boy "called in drunk" and they were backed up. The food was quite good though, surprisingly, and David enjoyed the Sake sampler as I sipped on my diet soda.
A short jaunt after dinner to Rocky Mountain Chocolate was very successful as my pecan and chocolate covered caramel apple was delicious. Pain killers may prohibit the ingestion of alcohol but there is nothing wrong with a bit of chocolate and caramel thank heavens!
No comments:
Post a Comment