The day after BJ’s shoulder surgery, there was a knock at the door. Some guy was standing on the porch, wanting to know if this was where he was supposed to deliver the shoulder therapy device.

The doctor had talked to me about prescribed exercises and arranging physical therapy, but this was the first I had heard about any machines coming into the house. However, it sure sounded right, so I let him in.

He was lugging this big old heavy thing with sharp edged steel legs, wires and cables going absolutely everywhere, looking around the living room. “You’ll need to use this in a chair without arms,” he said. I took him into the kitchen, where he set everything up. I signed some papers, and he said he would call us in about a month to arrange a pick-up.

BJ suffered a broken tailbone as a child, so the prospect of sitting — alone — on a hard kitchen chair with no TV for six to eight hours A DAY was, well, none too appealing. So I dragged the contraption back into the living room and found an old desk chair. Here’s the result:

Do you think we can get through the next month without breaking a few toes?