Almost instantly, PT guy looked around the room. Had the other therapists seen what he was doing? In this most serious place -- quiet, almost like a library. The gaze happened -- if I had a nephew, he'd have taught me to do circus bears.
The gaze, the reality of what he was doing -- nobody falls in PT --"You don't have to do that," he said.
"But I want to! This is fun!" I didn't fall.
PT guy looked away and said, "That's how we get compliance." He couldn't say speak such a betrayal to my face. We both knew -- we're exercise junkies.
When I visisted my brother at his home in CA, he had two exercise balls lying limply in the corner of a room. I asked for the pump. He didn't know where it was. So, I got a spoon, pried out the plugs, and inflated them by mouth. I showed his wife some of the tricks I can do on an exercise ball, culminating with circus bears. She joined me in most of them, but not circus bears. My brother walked into the room -- he did a circus bear. His physical trainer had taught him. He even learned how to start a circus bear in the middle of the room. PT guy taught me to start, balancing beside a couch. My younger brother was one-up. I can't allow that! It only took a few minutes. We were both doing circus bears in the middle of the room. The gaze happened. This is family. We're circus bears!