Dancing to the key of pain

I've got my second physiotherapy session today, the first was a fortnight ago. Folk in other countries, even other parts of this country have expressed surprise at the length of the gap between sessions. It doesn't surprise me of course because I now that NHS resources are allocated according to regional priority. My location takes a double hit, it's both rural and a safe political constituency so the per capita funding here is between a 1/3 and 1/2 of that of the most favoured locations. According to my appointment card they're booking me in with the same therapist, which will be nice, she's a rather attractive ging, well she was a redhead, the flame of youth has dulled upon her brow. I came away from the last session with a somewhat elevated mood, conversation with an intelligent woman is a rather rare occurrence for me and it was a welcome if brief interlude even though the conversation was rather limited in scope. The scope of our discourse did broaden somewhat though, they ask you about your personal life, nothing too deep, hobbies, job, etcetera. I told her I enjoy fishing and keep a few hens, coincidentally she also has a few birds, bantams, so we exchanged thoughts on this topic for a few moments. Oh well I'd better shave 'n' stuff, the appointment is in just over an hours time.