Pain in the Neck

I'd like you to just take a second and thank God for your health. Why?
Because for the love of all that I hold holy, you do NOT want to get
mixed up with the "health care" industry. YeeeeOUCH.

Ok, I should preface this rant by noting that after my car accident (Das
Cabrio ist kaput) I had a stiff neck. Nothing tragic, it just bothers
me... especially when I sit typing for a long period of time. Don't
worry, I'm laying in bed and typing with my toes. So, I go to the
doctor and say that I have a pain in my neck. Diagnosis: Whiplash.

Damn. That sounds bad.

But then Doc Happy tells me that his prescription (it even came on a
little prescription card) was "Physical Therapy, 3 X Week for 3 weeks."
Physical therapy huh? Instantly, my little delusional mind starts
forming images of some hot swedish blonde massaging my poor, aching neck
while I lounge in a jacuzzi and let out an oh-so satisfying
"AHHHhhhhhhh...."

Enter Healthsouth, my corporate-driven caretakers. And Robin, the
not-so-hot and not-so-swedish taskmaster that makes me go
"yeeeeeeEEEEOUCH!"

Actually, it didn't start out that bad. "Robin," or "Mistress of Pain"
as I like to call her, started me off with a bunch of neck stretches.
Ouch. But not a big deal. However, not a swedish love goddess either.

Did I mention that Robin can talk? Like a LOT? Yeah, about anything.
Except anything interesting. I've found she uses her hypnotic banter to
lull me into forgetting that she is putting the Vulcan death grip on
me. Ouch.

Then we are off to the work-out room. This place sucks. I swear it
looks like a room where every garage sale piece of fitness equipment got
dumped off after it didn't sell. The Ab Blaster, old-school Nordic
Trac, weighted golf clubs and those silly strap-on ankle weights. They
all came here to die.

This is wear I pull on rubber bands while other dorks hang from the
ceiling by their feet and random doofuses ice their bruised elbows.
These are my people.

Then Robin goes midevil on my ass. She --- and I SWEAR this is true ---
sticks four patches on the back of my neck. These patches are attached
to wires. The wires are attached to a box. And the box is attached to
wall socket. In effect, my brain is set up to serve as an incandescent
light bulb.

This is where I get a LITTLE nervous.

She tells me that I'm going to feel a "little sting." I ask HER what
THAT is supposed to mean. She responds by hitting the switch.

THIS is the most unnatural feeling in the world. My neck muscles start
flexing and REflexing at about 5000 oscillations per minute. My
shoulder heaves into my ear. My cheeks peel back toward my eye
sockets. My hair is standing on end and my goatee is shooting sparks.
I'm amped.

I have stiff neck and modern medicine turns me into a bug zapper.

I'm going to need MENTAL therapy.

ster