Being Bullied as a 41 year old

At first I loved going to physical therapy.  I’d lie down on a table and have my knee massaged and ultrasounded (just pretend that word actually exists).  Then things slowly started to change.  At first it was a “just try this exercise” or “ride the exercise bike for 3 minutes on 0 resistance.”  I made excuses for Deb.  “She’s pregnant.”  “She’s probably tired.”  “Give her time,” I thought. 

But slowly it got worse.  I found it much hard to excuse the bridges she wanted me to do.  30!  20 of them with crossed legs!  Last week she asked me to do step-ups!  Step-ups, you might remember, is what caused my quadriceps tendonitis in the first place!  Did she care about me at all?

Finally I’d had enough!  “You’re a bully!”  I stated.

Surprised, she looked at me.  (Probably trying to gaslight me into thinking she’d never heard that before.)  “Are bullies positive and affirming?”  She asked.

“Ok,” I conceded.  “You’re a nice bully.”

She’s probably going to miss me a lot when I stop going to PT.