February 16, 1992 up to Mid-April, 1992
After my df?ing, I called a taxi to take me home. When I got into the back seat and had given the driver my destination, as he put the cab in reverse, placing his arm across the top of the back rest of the front seat, he looked at me and said, "Ohhhhh, you?re going to be a heartbreaker."..........I didn?t say anything, but I sure thought that was a strange thing to say to someone you?d never met before....and what the hell did he mean by that anyway? It wasn?t like I was "coming on" to him or anything.
At any rate, the next day was very anticlimactic.....being now totally isolated, a feeling of purposelessness overcame me...... and I wondered what would happen next and what he would have me do. I continued pouring over the scriptures, but nothing was happening there.
On the morning of the 18 th , two days after my df?ing, I was listening to the radio and a song came on.....something about "come on over" or "come to me now".....I don?t remember the exact words, mainly the sentiment.....and the song was "throbbing" from the radio....almost pulsing with life, growing louder, then softer, as if he were reaching out to me, pleading with me to come to him. I got dressed and went to the physical therapy office and asked to see him.
When I first went through the door, I noticed there was a woman sitting in the waiting room with an infant seat on the floor in front of her. She had long blond hair pulled back in a ponytail at the nape of her neck, but for some reason I didn?t look at her face. Realizing that it was probably my therapist?s wife and his new "son", as I approached the reception window, I managed a slight "detour", walking as closely as I could by the infant carrier to see if I could get a peek at the baby......There was too much blanket around it and I could only see what "might" have been a partial view of an infant?s face, and as I looked down at it, the blanket gave the tiniest quiver and a sound emanated from it that was so soft, I wasn?t sure I?d heard anything at all. My reason for doing this was because by now, I had figured who he really was and I figured the wife and kids stories were just "props" for whatever game he was playing. (Remember the different appearance of the wife at Pic ?n Save?) When my therapist came to the door of the waiting room, his "wife" held up a plastic bag (one of those you get at the grocery store) with some men?s shoes in it and told him "I brought your shoes." He looked at her as though he were very displeased and took her down the hallway with him.
In approximately 5 minutes, he returned to the waiting room and sat down in the chair next to me looking very uncomfortable. When he asked me what I needed to see him for, I replied that I would rather speak privately...(not having a clue as to what I was going to say to him at ALL). He got up and first he took me to his tiny "office" that was about the size of a small closet, not even enough room for two people to sit down in there. I noticed there was a wooden plaque on the wall that read, "Jesus is Lord." Then, deciding that the room was too small for comfort, he led me to one of the massage rooms off the common treatment room and we sat in chairs directly opposite one another, our faces no more than a foot apart, so that I could see every detail of his face. I noticed that his irises were perfect.....there was no striation in them at ALL and they looked like brushed amber, just like gold is brushed to give it a softer glow.....and his teeth were perfect, each one slightly separate....I?ll bet he didn?t even hafta floss......By this time, I figured that the ball was in his "court" and that he should be willing to be up front with me and truthful about what was going on, so I told him, "You know why I?m here." He replied that he didn?t. I sat there and stared at him. He wasn?t going to be up front with me....hmmmm.....I said, "Yes, you do, you know why I?m here.".....he responded again that he didn?t.....and this time, I noticed the tiniest lifting of the right corner of his mouth in a smirk. I got up and went to the door of the massage room, stopping before I left. I turned and told him, "I?m tired of people playing games." Then I left.....and never returned to his office again.
When I arrived home, I felt mortified. I KNEW he knew why I?d been there, that I needed to know what would come, what to do now, but he?d decided it was funny to put me on this way. Well, I was angry and decided I didn?t NEED this kind of crap, he could just find someone else to play these games with..... And I then got out my "stash" of meds. I don?t like to take pain meds and muscle relaxers, so the prescriptions I?d had filled some months before were almost full. I took an almost full bottle of Vicodin and a bottle of muscle relaxer and went to sleep. I didn?t want to wake up ever again. I had stopped breathing when my son arrived home from school and he called the paramedics. Normally he?s very late coming home, but that day, he arrived early. The EMT?s helped me start breathing again and took me to Palomar Hospital. I remained unconscious for several days. My doctor was a witness doctor, Dr. Dann. He was so kind and knowing my circumstances, asked me if the elders knew I was there and whether they?d come to see about me. I told him that they didn?t and probably wouldn?t under the circumstances. He called them and they refused, of course. I was sent home after another few days there.
I figured that my "therapist" wasn?t going to allow me to "off" myself (I would discover that this was VERY true) and soon after arriving back home, I began pouring over the scriptures again, and this time I got out my Greek Interlinear and using a Greek/English dictionary, I began retranslating some of the scriptures pertinent to certain WTS teachings, checking out the NWT translation. Of course, I didn?t have the Greek dictionary for the language that was used during that time period, so when I couldn?t find a certain Greek word, I?d break it down and translate the syllables. My research went on for several months before I wrote the next letter to the GB. I?ll explain what I found and how I found it and about the first letter containing this very important info that I wrote to the GB, after my df?ing around the middle of April in a bit, but first I want to tell yall about the spiritual occurrences and some of my thoughts that continued throughout this time.
During the two month time period as I was researching and making notes on what I discovered, I noticed that at night, as I lay in my bed and looked up at the eaves on my house through the window, the eaves appeared to be glowing softly red, as though there were firelight reflecting on them. I got up and looked outside and there wasn?t even a streetlight nearby, so how could this be? It reminded me of the Israelites? exodus from Egypt and the pillar of fire that moved before them during the night. ?Someone? was letting me know he was there ?with me? to protect me.
The visits and kisses from the spirit continued and though I never literally returned to the physical therapy office for any reason, my thoughts would often center on my therapist. I recalled the time when he?d asked me about those pants I was wearing that weren?t really mine and about his response. I now realized that the way he?d responded and his tone was EXACTLY the way a former b/friend of mine had always responded to someone that he knew was BS?ing him.....so.....he KNEW I had been "hedging"......
I thought about the time I?d fallen off my "pink cadillac" while trying to angle my wheel from the street up over one of those California curbs to the sidewalk and banged the $ out of my left knee and since it was swollen and purple that next day when I went to physical therapy, when my therapist was adjusting my position on the treatment table, he kept bumping into it, to which I kept responding "OUCH!" When he?d asked me what was wrong with my knee, I just told him I?d slammed it against some concrete and it was bruised. He had given me a concerned look and told me, "You be careful out there." I realized he?d known EXACTLY how I?d hurt my knee and he?d bumped into it deliberately in order to see whether I?d admit to it.....
I wondered about the time he?d told me that he?d taken his daughter, first to church, then to the mall, and that "this morning" she?d ?slept in?....what did that mean?
And I thought about the time I?d handed him my daily activities diary to read, not realizing at first that it had a scriptural notation on it from the meeting the night before. The scriptures I?d written down in one corner were Romans 14: 7, 8. While reading the diary, he?d looked up at me startled and asked me, "You read the bible?" When I assured him that I did, he said, "I like Romans." And I had thought at the time, "What a DORK! What an unprofound thing to say! I?ll bet he?s some sappy little Baptist or something," while mentally rolling my eyes. And I realized how he?d made himself appear to be less than he actually is, soft-pedaling his intelligence and cleverness to make me feel superior to him at the time. And at home when I had looked up those scriptures, they read, "None of us, in fact, lives with regard to himself only and no one dies with regard to himself only; for both if we live, we live to Jehovah, and if we die, we die to Jehovah. Therefore both if we live and if we die, we belong to Jehovah." And now I was beginning to get a glimmer of the meaning of those scriptures.
And the very next treatment session, when he?d walked into the treatment room, he?d held out his right hand to shake mine (he?d never done this before).....when I had put my right hand in his, he instantly changed the position of his hand and was then holding my hand, as a father would a child?s hand....and as I had looked down at our hands.....I could see that his hand dwarfed mine, so that it looked like the difference between an adult?s hand and the hand of a small child.....when this had gone on for a few moments, he?d begun shaking loose his hand from mine.....and it took a little effort on his part....not because I was clutching his hand, but because the flesh of our palms was almost joined like two lumps of damp clay semi-stuck together. The reason I hadn?t "freaked" over this when it happened must have been because he only wanted me to take note of it in retrospect.
I recalled the day when I?d been on the treatment table reaching behind my head for the bars to pull and because he?d been standing very close, I accidently hit him as I reached behind me. I had said, "Sorry...I didn?t mean to thwack ya."....to which he responded, "That?s alright.....I?ve been thwacked before." What an understatement, eh?
I remembered the day I?d looked down to see him sitting on the floor by my treatment table leaning against the wall and pinching the bridge of his nose. I?d asked him if he had a headache, to which he?d replied, "I need to get my eyes examined.".....and now I wondered what that had really meant....
And THEN I started thinking about some of the "therapy techniques" he?d used on me. The time he?d had me sit on the corner of a treatment table and had me cross my arms, placing my hands on my opposite shoulders and then stood closely in front of me and moved me back and forth in a swaying motion as though we were dancing.
And the time he?d been talking while walking behind me when going from one treatment room to another and all I heard him say each time my hips swayed was, "and THAT?s interesting..."
And near the end of our therapy appointments, he?d been giving me a massage and while adjusting the pads beneath my shoulders, he?d been continuously giggling in my face. I had wondered what the hell that was about, at the time, but didn?t ask.
And there was the time that he?d decided to give me a demonstration on how joints fit and work together, so he took my closed fist and covered it with his hand, encircling my wrist with his other hand and rotated my fist back and forth, pushing kind of hard and with a rhythm that was SO overtly sexual.
So I became angry with him.....because of his deliberate seductiveness.....and I decided to sit down and write him a letter. I wrote him berating him for deliberately being seductive and how I?d seen the time another patient had been looking at him with "puppy-dog eyes" and vowed to myself never to let that happen to me, but it had and that I was grieving now and I hoped he was happy about it, since he?d found me so amusing the last time I?d seen him. And in the letter I said something to him that I would come to regret before long....I told him that he should use the "no frills" sort of therapy that the other therapists had used on me, instead of getting his female patients all worked up over him in the future.
I figured it wouldn?t take long for the letter to reach him, since his office wasn?t that far away....and I already knew approximately what time the mail was delivered to his office, so on the day I figured it?d be delivered, close to lunchtime, I told my son, who was being home-schooled at the time, to look out the French doors of our kitchen.....in the direction his office was located, because while I didn?t know what reaction there would be to my letter, I DID know there would be one. I was distracted by something I was doing in another room when my son called me into the kitchen and pointed in the direction of the physical therapy office. I laughed out loud when I looked......Boy, was HE pissed!.......though the California sky was clear as a bell everywhere else that day, positioned precisely over the physical therapy building was a building-sized extremely black cloud.....and we both heard a soft rumbling of distant thunder.
But other than the words in the letter about "no frills" that I would come to regret, he must have forgiven me for everything else....probably because he knew it was true.
I told him soon after that....oh, we had a sort of ESP-type communication going, wherein I would recognize his "backatcha" thoughts communicated to me were not my own, but were from him.....anyway, I let him know that I sure would like to have a picture of him....so later that month, when I picked up the Escondido Times, there was an article in it with his picture. :) And one day as I was walking down a sidewalk near the physical therapy office on my way to a doctor appointment, I was thinking about him and I asked him how he really liked to look, since I knew that his appearance at the physical therapy office had been kinda dorky like a witness and was a put-on. The answer I got from him was not what I had expected. As I continued down the sidewalk coming to a motorcycle shop, there was a really big motorcycle parked in front....and standing there beside it tinkering with something on it was a younger version of my physical therapist dressed in jeans with a plain white T-shirt tucked in and athletic shoes. His hair was long (halfway down his back) and pulled back in a ponytail at the nape of his neck.....and he was bent over so that I actually had to step around that wonderfully tempting tushie of his as I passed him.....and after I passed him, I soon heard the motorcycle engine softly turn over and rev, as he slowly pulled away, and made a "U-ie".....and I realized he was teasing me and smiled to myself.
I?m running out of space again, so I?ll cover the mid-April letter to the GB, the subsequent earthquake and his appearing to me in Installment #8.
Frannie B