The Continuing Adventures Of Hip Flexor, State Licensed Physical Therapist

As we join our hero, we find him in a terrifying predicament; that is, trying to explain his treatment plan to Mrs. Sphinkle’s insurance company.

“But Mr. Flexor, you still haven’t provided a medical rationale for the additional 6 weeks of sessions” the bureaucrat stated.

“Why I thought I did” Hip replied. “She is recovering from surgery.”

“But that was jowl-reduction surgery, Mr. Flex—

But before the desk monkey could complete the thought, Hip was distracted by the dulcet sounds of his office door being kicked in.

“What the medial collateral ligament is going on here?” Hip wondered aloud before taking a door splinter in his clavicle. And it was at that moment when he gazed upon his arch enemy, Co-Payment Man, making his way through the debris.

“What brings you here, you fiend?” snarled Hip.

“The B52 Express Bus. But I hardly see how that’s relevant. Prepare to meet your maker, Flexor!”

Fortunately, Co-Payment Man’s obtuseness gave Hip ample time to zero in and ready a haymaking punch aimed directly at his foe’s mandible.

“Is that a haymaker you’re ready to throw?” Co-Payment Man inquired.

“Why yes. Now hold still.”

“I’m sorry, but that will cost you $15. Payable up front.”

“What?! Oh, no!…Wait.” Hip checked his billfold. Do you accept checks? I’m a little short this week.”

“Of course. You can make it out to Co-Payment Man, LLC.”

“Great,” stated Hip. But as he was fumbling with his fountain pen, Co-Payment man gave him such a kick to the spleen that Hip fell over the treatment table, knocking him senseless.

Hip recovered quickly, however, and rushed towards his nemesis looking to defeat him once and for all with a powerful, cross body block to the patellas.

“Is that a cross body block you wish to throw?” asked the villain.

“Why yes,” replied Hip mid-air. “And it will defeat you once and for all!”

“I see,” said Co-Payment Man. “Well…that will cost you $15 for the block and another $15 for any collateral damage to my patellas. All payable up front” said Co-Payment Man while deftly sidestepping the flying Physical Therapist.

“Aaaaarrrgggh!” said Hip as he landed in a heap. “I’m being nickled and dimed to death!”

“What can I say? You should have read the documentation we mailed. It’s all spelled out for you in the table on page 6” said Co-payment Plan as he stepped over our hero on the way out. “But there IS some good news.”

“What’s that?” moaned Hip.

“I believe you met your yearly deductible.”

“That’s nice” stated Hip as he lost consciousness once and for all.

The Continuing Adventures of Hip Flexor, State Licensed Physical Therapist

As we join our hero, we find him engaged in the most heroic of hero duties; that is, filling out the requisite paperwork for third-party reimbursement.

But then there’s a knock on the door…

“Come in, ” says our hero in characteristically heroic fashion.

“Mr. Flexor? My name is…um…Jones. Steve Jones. I was referred here by my doctor due to injuries sustained as a result of a recent, freak accident on my job at the pie-tin factory.”

Hip read about this in the newspaper. A real tragedy, it was. Not to mention a major catalyst in the rising price of pie.

“Well, once I fill out these OP-547/dbl forms I’ll be right with you.”

“Ha, Flexor, you gullible oaf! I am not Steve Jones. It is I, the fiendish Dr. Fiend! Here to finally destroy you with my Republigun. Just one squeeze of the trigger and all of your patients will have to open private health accounts—they will never be able to afford your services again!”

“You fiend!”

“Exactly.”

Flexor’s mind was racing. But then it came to him.

“How many times have you burst into my office with the expressed purpose of destroying me, Fiend?”

Dr. Fiend thought for a moment.

“I believe this is my sixth.”

“A HA! Five visits are all your insurance will allow. You will have to get your primary physician to request an additional session from your HMO. And in the prolonged interim, I will be devising a defense against your Republigun! Don’t let the door hit you on the way out. ”

“Curse you, Flexor! I’ll be back. Um, maybe. I haven’t reached my deductible yet.”

"And I will be waiting. You see, Fiend, crime doesn’t pay. But bureaucracy does."

The New Adventures of Hip Flexor, State Certified Physical Therapist

On an otherwise sunny day in The Big City, we find Hip Flexor hard at work in his lair (aka Flexor Holistic Healing Center). He steps into the waiting room and calls for his 9:30 appointment.

“Next!”

The evil Dr. Maniacal leaps up and states, “That would be me, Flexor!”

"Curse you, Maniacal!", Hip shoots back. "Fine, come in—it’s your last allowable session anyway. Your insurance company just informed me."

Dr. Maniacal follows our hero into the treatment room and takes his usual position on the table.

"I don’t get it, Maniacal, you’ve been allotted the usual number of sessions and yet…it seems eerily like I’ve been treating you for years.”

"Just your imagination, Flexor. Now get with the massage!"

As Hip begins bending and flexing the rather tightly-ligamented Dr. Maniacal, the latter removes a tiny device from his pocket protector.

"What is that fiendish-looking device, Maniacal?!"

"Ah, Flexor. This is my pocket-sized Time Machine. Invented it years ago. I don’t mind telling you about it, because in a second, you won’t have any memory of this discussion!"

Noooooooooo!

*********ZAP!********

On an otherwise sunny day in The Big City, we find Hip Flexor hard at work in his lair (aka Flexor Holistic Healing Center). He steps into the waiting room and calls for his 9:30 appointment.

“Next!”

The evil Dr. Maniacal leaps up and states, “That would be me, Flexor!”

The New Adventures of Hip Flexor, State Certified Physical Therapist

On an otherwise sunny day in The Big City, we find Hip Flexor hard at work in his lair (aka Flexor Holistic Healing Center). He steps into the waiting room and calls for his 9:30 appointment.

"Next!"

Mr. Goldfarbowitz hobbles into the back room. While Hip turns briefly to check the chart, Mr. Goldfarbowitz tosses his walker and quickly removes his old, Jewish man disguise to reveal himself as Hip’s arch enemy.

Cramp Man!

"Say your prayers, Flexor!", Cramp Man commands just as our intrepid hero turns around.

Hip begins making his way through the 39th psalm as directed. “Damn my typically compliant nature!” he thinks to himself. In the interim, Cramp Man takes out the SpasmGun™ and fires toward Hip’s unprotected hamstrings.

ARRRGGHHHH!”, Hip shouts in his best approximation of a comic book voice as he grabs at the rather elongated muscle that runs from the back of his thigh all the way down to his Achilles tendon.

"That smarts, you no-good evil-doer!"

"Wait until you find out that your HMO will only cover the first 5 of the necessary 10 treatment sessions you will need to address this condition!", laughs Cramp Man bureaucratically.

"Fiend!"

While Hip begins to fill out the appropriate paperwork, Cramp Man makes a clean getaway, proving once and for all, that crime pays while General Health Incorporated does not.