Separation Anxiety II: In Which I Sing the Praises of a Really Good Physical Therapist
I'm on my fifth physical therapist in this MS journey. The first was a stern older woman who tried in vain to strengthen my pelvic floor. (Yes, I realize that sounds like the plot of a niche porn.) The second was a dumb but pretty and oh-so-strong young man whom I dazzled with my knowledge of 80s music as he threw me to the mat again and again to teach me to fall properly. (He's the basis of my as-yet-unwritten smutty romance novel.) Next came another sweet and moderately helpful one at the Capitol Hill location of Physiotherapy Associates followed by Danielle at the same site. I highly recommend Danielle; she's encouraging without being cheerleader-y, good at banter (a must if you're spending 30+ minutes with someone twice a week), and a solid physical therapist. Given my recent struggles, though, when it came time for 2017's PT adventure, I decided to go for a pro. Pro, meaning someone with experience with neurological issues. Enter Molly. Well, first, enter Val