I hate being talked to like I’m senile. I find it irritating and demeaning.

A few years ago I was at the “One of a Kind” show in Toronto. Lots of exhibits, people and noise. One of the booths was for Chiropractic. Being demonstrated were various forms of home treatments. The one that caught my eye was a device that massages the shoulders. Just what I needed to soothe my aching shoulder muscles from playing tennis. I tried to get Angie to massage my shoulders but her touch is so light that it feels like kittens are walking on my back. I do go for massages but apart from the expense I keep falling in love. Not too bad, as long as it’s a female.

Anyway I digress. I tried on the shoulder massage device which had straps on either side so that you could press down on the device and increase the pressure. All right we’re cooking. Vibrating and feeling good when suddenly I began to feel a gradual numbing sensation creeping down my arms and up into my head. Oh god, I thought I’m having a stroke. But I was able to think and talk with difficulty. I got the staff to take the device off me and sat down. They gave me a glass of water and while I sipped the water the numbness resided and feeling gradually returned. It took about 30 minutes to recover enough to walk. Over the next few weeks I had several more incidences each one lasting less time and causing me less discomfort.  After the third incident I went to the doctor who sent me for x-rays. The x-rays showed that it was arthritis of the rib cage and that the problem I was having was caused by pressure on a parasympathetic nerve. In other words, neurologically, I was ok. The doc suggested I go for physio and I made an appointment.

By the time the appointment arrived I was in the middle of a bout of laryngitis. I could barely speak above a whisper and some days I couldn’t even whisper. If I tried to talk I coughed. So there I was in front of the physio unable to explain how I felt. She had notes from the doctor to go on. “Ok”, she began, in a tone and style strangely familiar. Who was it she reminded me of? Was it one of my kids’ Kindergarten teachers?  She continued talking to me as if I was a five year old, now she was using hand gestures as if she was conducting an orchestra. “It seems that you have a condition called Degenerative Disc Disease. But don’t worry”, she quickly added, “it’s not a real disease.”. Now I know exactly what DDD is. I’ve had it forever, but I can’t tell her because I know I’ll start coughing. Oh god I’m trapped. She continued, “Now we’re going to raise our arms,”, doing so as she talked. On hearing “we’re” I looked around to see if there was someone else in the class. There wasn’t it was just me and I was trapped. Suddenly I knew where I had heard the voice before; it was on Polka Dot Door from the early 80’s. My physiotherapist acted and sounded like Cindy Cook, the host on Polka Dot Door at that time. Oh geez I need to laugh or I’m gonna pass out from holding my breath. But wait it wasn’t Cindy Cook I could hear and see  in my mind’s eye. It was my daughter Jenny doing her spot on imitation of Cindy Cook. Oh geez now I’m really in trouble. I know if I start laughing I’m gonna start coughing, but if I suppress my cough I know I’m gonna fart. Either way I’m in trouble. The physiotherapist is continuing to instruct me, I’m trying desperately to hold on to my sanity wishing for this craziness to be over and she is still talking to me with this kindergarten voice.

Finally the session ended. What a relief. I stumbled out to the reception desk to pay the bill. The receptionist was in her late 20’s. I whispered to her. “Did you ever watch Polka Dot Door?”, She nodded yes. I then pointed to the physiotherapist who was walking by. “Wasn’t she the host of the show at one time?”, I asked trying not to laugh out loud. The receptionist looked up at the physio, looked back at me and she too smiled at the amazing resemblance both vocally and physically. “Oh yeah, you’re right.” She confirmed.  I left with another chapter for my book. I never went back and the condition gradually went away.