Thursday, July 17, 2008


I'd never been tied up before.

I have trust issues and am also a bit hesitant to completely surrender to someone else's power. I guess it's all part of my unfortunate control freak streak.

So when he asked me to lay down, I was more than a bit hesitant. I mean, I didn't even know his name. He assured me I would feel good afterwards - I worried the confinement would lead me to hyperventilate.

I got in position and threw my hands above my head, trying to stay out of the way. Carefully he strapped me in - grabbing one black nylon strap after the other. One by one, he clicked together six buckles asking if everything was tight enough - he further cinched the straps when I replied that I could still wiggle a little bit.

I was completely captive and a little bit freaked out.

My brain raced to the unlikely and inopportune possibility of a fire. I envisioned scorching, raging flames wildly waving in the sky. There I'd be, strapped and trapped in the nylon strapping - begging a firefighter to save me from my own personal hell.

Fortunately, my life isn't that exciting.

He did what he could to extend my torso and asked me to lay still. I closed my eyes, the straps restricting my breathing to short, shallow movements.

Fifteen minutes.

That's how long I had to surrender control - waiting patiently for the beeping of the digital alarm to go off - signalling the end of my stillness.

Talk about an unusual treatment at physical therapy.

They call it traction, and the PT suggested it as one way to help assist in my ongoing process to fix a bulging disc.

I go in for another session tomorrow morning. I'm wondering whether I need to wear leather for the occasion.

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