On Monday, I had plans to go out for dinner. I made arrangements with Mark so that I could leave about 4:15pm and he would be home with the girls. After picking Charlotte up from school and getting Penelope’s feed going, I was rushing around, trying to get ready to leave. Around 4pm, just as I was struggling to get my shirt over my head, the doorbell rang. I fought my way through the shirt, nearly ripping it in the process, cursing whoever it was interrupting me. I threw open the door, and there was Alice, Penelope’s physiotherapist. My heart sank to the ground.
I was fairly certain that I had told Alice that Monday was not good for a therapy session, and I repeated it to her again as she made her way into the house. She wasn’t hearing it, though and was completely unconcerned that I was on my way out the door. “Well, I’m here now, and I will just have to do it with Daddy instead.”
This was not good. As I have written about before, Penelope does not enjoy these physiotherapy sessions. She screams and cries throughout them, and it is nearly impossible for Alice to get Penelope to do any of the prescribed exercises. I find these sessions extremely stressful, and I dread them. I briefly considered cancelling my plans so that Mark wouldn’t have to experience the hell that is physio with Alice and Penelope, but it was far too late to bail on my friends. I had to leave, and Mark would have to deal with it.
I felt ill as I left the house. I was certain that the physio would not go well, and that Mark would be upset that I had just dumped it in his lap and went out for the evening. I waited anxiously for the inevitable text, asking me how to get Penelope to calm down. It didn’t come. So I decided to test the waters and texted him, offering some advice for how to get Penelope settled after one of these horrible therapy visits. This is our exchange:
I was shocked and intensely relieved. I was able to enjoy my dinner at Wahlburger’s, though I didn’t get to meet Donnie or Mark. (Actually, it’s probably a good thing that they weren’t there, because if Donnie was there, then his wretched wife, Jenny McCarthy might be with him, and I don’t know that I could restrain myself from punching her in the face for all of the anti-vaccine propaganda she has spread for years). So yeah, everything really worked out for the best.
When I got home, Mark reiterated that the session had gone really well. Both he and Alice were very impressed with how great Penelope did. In fact, Mark has now volunteered to do all these physio sessions with her, and I couldn’t be happier- Penelope is finally getting some benefit out of this, and I no longer have to deal with the tears and the stress. This little misunderstanding really worked out in my favour- about damn time, am I right?