When I first booked the appointment they said there was an 11am opening... or 4:30 if I preferred a female practitioner. I didn't care, plus I couldn't make 4:30 work, so I booked with the guy. It was at a spa, not an actual massage therapy clinic, so I settled myself into thinking it was all about atmosphere. A massage and a pedicure after 2 weeks home with the boys sounded wonderful.
He seemed a bit nervous at first and I thought "Oh noes! A newbie!" He made cheesy jokes (a slight bow and very gracious "Oh no, you shouldn't have!" When I presented him with my empty water glass) and there was a slight dance as I entered the room and we both stepped in the same direction. More cheesy jokes about the electric bed warmer.
I had an unexpected flash of "Shit - another man is touching me!" As he pulled down the sheet and put his hands on my skin. I thought back about the last few massages I've had with a male practitioner and realized they've all been therapeutic massages, more osteopathic in technique, and I stay fully dressed. I felt exposed and even a bit like I was doing something naughty.
But as the massage continued, as he found the sore spots between my shoulder blades and worked them with his elbow, I saw my mistake. He wasn't a novice. He knew his stuff. This wouldn't be relaxing. He followed a ropey muscle towards my arm pit and discovered an incredibly tight rotator cuff. From this, he deduced that I sleep mostly on my left side and that my hands probably go numb. And that I was in a car accident at some point. All true! He worked that muscle until I nearly cried but then it suddenly released, the knot melted away and the pain was minimized, even though he was up to his wrist in it.
Moving down to my hips, he asked if I was having low back problems - hellz yes! He said my sacrum was tight and out of place, causing my hips to rotate and pull. I knew that, but figured since my chiropractor couldn't get it to release that it was a lost cause. Well, this guys had a few tricks up his sleeve. Grabbing onto my foot, he tugged gently on my leg, once, twice, three times. On tug number four, he told me to cough. (At this point in my retelling, Jay asked if the guy was wearing gloves and did I have to bend over?) When I coughed, I felt a click. The pain I've been having off and on for the last 13 years and nearly constantly for the last 2 eased.
|Can we say "Quasimodo"?|
I went in expecting 45 minutes of ho-hum relaxation in a quite, dim room with sleepy music playing. But I got some fixes to some pretty big deals. And a shade called "Hearts & Tarts" on my toes. Sweeeeet!
And just so this post isn't all about me... look what happened to Elliot yesterday!
Looks all grown up, doesn't he?!