My Graduation from Physical Therapy

BY NANCY DAVIDOFF KELTON

This article is in the November 2025 issue of The Village View

A few weeks ago, I graduated from physical therapy after six months of treatment for sciatica. Now, except for getting out of bed in the morning, standing up quickly from a chair, or stepping down from the curb, which often give me a quick sharp pain in my spine, I am fine. When I stretch before getting out of bed in the morning, once in bed for the night, and when I keep my tummy and buttocks tucked in when I walk, I don’t have spinal problems.

I have had physical therapy three times before; once for a more severe case of sciatica, another for a foot issue, and a third for a torn meniscus. I went to the same facility twice. One of those times, my husband was having therapy at the same center for a shoulder issue. We had the same therapist. Sometimes we scheduled our appointments at the same time and were next to each other. If we talked, I would initiate the conversation which was usually about what to eat for dinner and at what restaurant.

With my recent physical therapy sessions, I often reached out to nearby patients. Some did not wish to talk. Some did. I spoke with people who were doing the same stretches I was doing; some also had sciatica, others were recovering from falls or knee or hip replacement surgery. I spoke to a man who is a theater buff. I complimented a woman on her hair and asked her where she had it cut. I wanted to go to the same stylist. “No, you don’t,” she said. “It’s a wig. I have had four types of cancer.” She laughed when she said that. I told her we need not talk about it anymore. She said she would like to. We spoke at length and quite easily.

Physical therapy has been social. In ways, it has been more useful than mental therapy. I have not been in regular mental therapy for years. My last regular psychotherapist died eight months ago. I consulted two others since then: once in person to discuss my last psychotherapist’s death. I found her office cold. Drab. Unwelcoming. I found her the same way. I then had four Facetime sessions with another psychotherapist. During the third session, he was eating. Obviously too. Chowing down. That offended me. I told him so, reminding him that I was supposed to be his focus. He apologized and said he had had eight hours of sessions and had not eaten all day. Oh my gosh! That was not my business. At our fourth session I asked him why he kept glancing elsewhere instead of keeping his eyes on me. He explained his office was on the first floor of his country house and he wanted to check and see if the pool man or the gardener was coming. That did it. I ended my time with him. Plus, I was dealing with my sciatica and in between physical therapy sessions and stretching at home, it seemed downright ridiculous that I had to hear about my psychotherapist’s needs.

I love the physical therapy facility where I was recently treated. I liked my previous physical therapist, but she retired and the facility closed down. The second facility was like a Marx Brothers movie without humor. The therapists ran around talking with each other more than to their patients or did not know much about their ailments. I left.

My recent therapist, Paul, was knowledgeable, experienced, kind, gentle, reassuring, and funny. He gave me stretches to do at home, urged me to continue doing plank poses, and answered my questions thoroughly and simply. He introduced me to his assistants and to the other physical therapists who pitched in and helped. The receptionists were very friendly and accommodating.

These sessions in a friendly, well-run center, the use of a heating pad on my back and the contacts were great. I was afraid to leave. Paul thought I could stop weeks before I did, reminding me I could always come back if needed.

I am doing my stretches at home. I walk regularly, slower and for shorter distances. I go to the gym which I have not done for a while. My recent stint with physical therapy has been better than my recent stints with mental therapy.

For now, my time with both is up.

The Village View does not endorse specific medical advice, but is rather sharing one person’s experience. Work with your health care provider to choose the best path for you.