So this morning I went to physical therapy, probably for the last time. Everybody knew I was coming in, and yet people seemed surprised that I was popping up at the clinic. When I reported to the receptionist (albeit five minutes late), she asked me for my insurance card. I had been there about half a dozen times for therapy before and I had only been asked for the card the first time. Huh; maybe it's because I skipped my usual biweekly routine.
And then, when I finally saw my therapist, he asked me, "So, why are you here today?" And then he spent the rest of our session, which lasted about 20 minutes (it usually lasts twice that long) making me do the same things he had me do before to make sure I didn't, like, slip a disc or something, plus half-heartedly trying to look at a couple other exercises that might ... make me feel better, I don't know. I got the sense he had no idea why I was there. And beyond feeling a little pain in my neck recently, the result of sleeping in my car on a bad car seat, frankly, I was at a loss as to what to bring to this session, too.
I should back up here and confess that I was afraid I could see this coming. Because it felt as though my last rehab session with this guy, three weeks ago, was supposed to be it. I say that because he basically said in that last session that he has done all that he could do, it's just a matter of me doing it. However, as I was leaving that session I had to drop off this questionnaire that I had to fill out. I was supposed to drop this off at a second receptionist, one situated within the bowels of the clinic after I reported with the first receptionist. When I dropped off the form the second receptionist asked, "OK, do you want to see him two weeks from now?" I was a little confused, but I didn't say anything about that time being the last time. I hesitated for, like, half a second before I thought about doing these exercises on my own and trying to fit cleaning the house before my parents come home into my schedule, and I told her that I would see him three weeks from then, which was this morning.
I guess I could have said something to the effect of, "Uh, but he said that I shouldn't see him ever again." But hey, if the receptionist says to make a time, who am I to argue? Also, my rehab therapist walked into the receptionist office just before we made this appointment. He certainly was within earshot of us making this appointment, and he didn't stop it.
So apparently I had made an appointment that neither he nor I wanted. Neither, maybe, did the clinic, because I now think back to when I handed over my insurance card. Why did I have to hand it over? That makes me think about this theory: There was only a set amount of sessions I get with him under my current plan. Any more and I'll have to pay. If that is true, that would have been nice to know before I saw him this morning. Hell, that would have been nice to know three weeks ago when I made this appointment. Could no one at the clinic -- the rehab guy, either receptionist -- tell me that this rehab session is extra? No one?
No comments:
Post a Comment