Manual Edge_Stayihg Active and Becoming Better Balanced



A PT Christmas POEM ‘Twas the night before Christmas when all through the clinic, Not a creature was stirring not even a for a minute; The sheets and pillows were placed with great care, In hopes that the therapists soon would be there. The therapists and staff were nestled all snug in their beds, While visions of helping patients danced in their heads; And Carisa in her office and I in a room just to muse, Had just settled down for a long winter’s snooze. When from the clinic front door there arose such a clatter, I sprang from the treatment table to see what was the matter; Away to the front door, so clear and so wide, Looked through the clear glass and saw patients outside. The morning sun with its glare, wishing I had my sunglasses, Obscured the faces of familiar laddies and lasses; When what to my wondering eyes should appear, But a caravan of cars so patients don’t fear. With a big old leader, and many books on the shelf, I saw in the reflection, it must be myself; More committed than ever to heal our patients they came,

I smiled and I shouted and I called them by name. “Now, CHRIS! now, DIANNA! now, VAL and TERESA! On, VEDA! on ERIN! on, HOLLY and KRISTINA!

Tim Bonack


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