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Internet, what is the matter with people? Can someone explain to me what in God's name makes some folks think they can just do whatever and to heck with it?
FOUR physical therapy visits a week? That's not a treatment plan, that's a form of torture. Take a man with four gunshot wounds -- a man who has risked his life to keep us all a little safer -- and give him just enough PT that we can't sue the insurance company for malpractice, but not enough to actually get him walking again.
Seriously, it's the kind of thing you see on those posters at the Amnesty International tables in front of the Whole Foods.
And don't even get me started on some of the jokers who call themselves physical therapists. I've talked to a couple really great folks this week, but I've also met some people that I wouldn't let treat Osama Bin Laden's tennis elbow. I won't name names, but if your physical therapist is a bored-looking woman in a kitten cardigan, run. (Or roll or crutch or whatever. Just get AWAY.)
I've also had it with these so-called doctors with their horsepoop "prognoses" about whether Hank will walk again or not.
Oh, he'll walk again. Because I'm making up a little list: "People Who Need Hank to Kick 'Em in the Pants."