Unfiltered Story #107365

, , | Unfiltered | March 15, 2018

I’m crossing the street when I get hit on my left side by a car. I fall at an old angle onto the road, and the impact causes the brunt of my injuries. Thankfully, the car stops immediately, and the injuries are minor — a small cut above my right eye, a black eye and other minor bruising, and scar tissue in my right shoulder. I go to physical therapy for the scar-tissue damage. During my initial consultation, the therapist and a nurse maneuver my arm into different positions to gauge the pain each position causes me. He asks me to rate the pain on a 1 to 10 scale.

Me: That’s a 1…that’s a 2…that’s more like a 3 or maybe a 2.5…

He’s got my arm pointed at four o’clock when white-hot pain explodes in my shoulder. I go speechless as black spots press in on my vision. When my vision clears and the pain recedes, I stare at the therapist and the nurse, and they stare back, alarmed.

Therapist: Are you okay?

Me: …Uh, yeah, I’m okay. That really, really hurt.

The rest of the session goes much better, and my subsequent visits go fine, too. The staff there are nothing but professional. I think I scared the therapist with my reaction that first day, because no member of staff ever tried to move my arm into that position again. With the help of the stretches they should me how to do, I recover full mobility in my arm after a couple months.

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