Sick to death...

I'm sick and tired of physical therapy.  SICK. OF. IT.  Yet tomorrow, I'm going to go get my arm scraped on again.

Thursday's therapy session was more brutal than Monday's.  I was about twice as bruised.  My arm is pretty green now.

It's not one bit better.  As a matter of fact, this weekend was pretty painful.

So why am I going back tomorrow?  Because my Orthopaedic Surgeon told me that if it's not better after six weeks of therapy--if it's not pain free--that I should come back and we'd take the next steps to figure out what's wrong.  He didn't say five weeks, he said six weeks.

If I end up having surgery, I'll probably always wonder if that one more week of therapy would have made a difference.  I can tell you right now that I have about zero hope that it will, but he said six weeks, so I'll go two more times and spend another hundred dollars.

</whiiiiiiiiiine>

Sorry.  It hasn't been the best weekend as far as this stoopid elbow is concerned.