Mr Spondy

Recently I took a leap of faith, resigned from my position at the consulting firm I was working at and returned to physiotherapy. I had completely forgotten how entertaining it is to work with clients so closely. Currently I am not based anywhere permanently. I decided instead to make a slow transition back into the field by working part-time at several different private practices around Joburg. So much of fun…

I had a particularly entertaining treatment session with a 75 year old man last week. The decrepit little old hunchback walked into the practice complaining of back pain. I initially put on my sweetest and most compassionate voice, assessing his movements and posture with gentle explanations and nudges while he chatted on and on about the degeneration of his spine (known as spondylosis) which he has sweetly nicknamed his ‘spondy’. After almost 10 minutes of polite conversation, I finally managed to coax him onto the plinth to begin his treatment.

I began working on Mr Spondy’s neck and upper back while he garbled on about how ‘in his day’ he was a fantastic tennis player, how he has been married and divorced twice (both blondes) and  how he is currently dating a beautiful brunette ten years his junior. As my hands moved progressively lower down his back, the conversation seemed to move in a similar direction. 

The first impression I had of Mr Spondy (that he was a polite and sweet old dear) were diminishing faster than Julius Malema can retaliate to a news reporter. Before I knew it, Mr Spondy began telling me of a time he visited a Chinese massage parlour. He told me that he does not frequent ‘those types of organisations’ but rather that he had gone because he felt he really needed it. He also added that he does have friends who still enjoy the occasional outing to Teasers. By this stage I was planning my excuse to cut the treatment time short and make a swift dash for the door.

Mr Spondy continued with his dodgy story, saying that after he had been ushered to a private room by his Chinese masseuse, he had been instructed to remove his clothing. He dutifully obliged, removing his pants and shirt and lay face down on the plinth. The masseuse returned and told him to remove his underwear too. Feeling somewhat uncomfortable, he did what he was told. The masseuse began her massage. After several minutes, the masseuse said: “You hot? You feely hot?” Feeling embarrassed and a little confused, Mr Spondy said, “No I am fine thank-you”. The masseuse continued with the massage. Two minutes later, the masseuse popped her head under the plinth so Mr Spondy could see her face and said: “You hot, you want fun?” Mr Spondy was by this stage more than a little uncomfortable and reacted with a very abrupt “No, no. Thank-you but I don’t want fun”. The masseuse then said: “No, you need fun” and left the room (during which time Mr Spondy had begun to clamber off the plinth). The masseuse breezed back into the room only to find Mr Spondy clambering off the plinth as fast as his little legs could carry him but he stopped in his tracks when his gaze fell upon the masseuses hands…she had returned with a fan.

I can’t wait for Mr Spondy’s follow-up visit!