Meanwhile, physiotherapy progressed—it was at first boring, and then, when the physiotherapist saw that I didn't trust the right knee and I had to build strength in it, he put me through some exercises designed to start that. He watched me walk around, then had me walk with knees raised high, so I decided I was to be a band major, so I grabbed one of the long sticks they use for balance and whirled it like a baton. At the other end of the room, before wheeling around to return, I needed to vary the high-knee step with some goose-stepping, of course. We had achieved flexibility, now we worked on strength.
I kneed my ears, too: on a visit to an audiologist, I got hearing test, my hearing aid boosted and my remote re-connected with the hearing aid's new settings. The new settings are about as high as this hearing aid allows, so the next time I need an adjustment—2017? 2018?—I’ll probably need new hearing aids. Meanwhile, the sensation right now is similar to having new hearing aids—a noisy world, ability to monitor my own singing voice and to hear other people better.
Note: I recently was in a Schindler-brand elevator. If it starts to tilt, would this be called 'Schindler's List'? A friend says, ‘in the meantime, it’s a Schindler’s lift’, which is true, and ‘lift’ is how you say ‘list’ if you lisp. Lisping is done mainly by small children and Mike Tyfon, so a Schindler’s lift is actually a child (‘when I was a child, I spoke as a child’) aspiring to become a full adult Schindler’s list or content to remain the Schindler’s Tyfon.