Since Tuesday morning I've been unable to turn my head to the left. This has been problematic for a variety of reasons. Driving and checking blind spots is a bit more adventurous in this condition. I have to steel myself before I try to read my insulin pump that normally lives on my left hip. And you can be sure there isn't a lot of sexy time happening that involves anything other than my body remaining absolutely still, preferably propped up on heating pads and covered in menthol cream.
I was able to squeeze in a massage appointment with Laura at Changes City Spa downtown for this evening at 6:45pm. Rich suggested I go to the chiropractor in the meantime, but I wanted to hold out for Laura. I knew she could make it right or kill me trying.
I was in such a hurry for relief, I showed up a good 15 minutes early and asked her if I could just lie in the dark room contemplating the universe and hoping the pain would end soon. She asked if I had any problem areas and I told her everything from my ears to the bottoms of my shoulder blades was in the evil grip of some demon and she was the only hope of exorcising it. She rolled up her sleeves and got to work with the efficiency of a German nursemaid.
Laura is only about 5'4" tall or so but she is strong. She started out by digging her fingers into my shoulders and neck and soon flipped me over to work on my back. By halfway through the session, she had gone through four different lotions, an herbal wrap and two steaming hot towels dug into my flesh. She then got out the big guns. She started at my short ribs and pushed her forearm up my back until she got to my shoulder blade. She then switched to her heavily-lotioned elbow and proceeded to press her entire body weight into my back and shoulder until she would finally slip off of the knot at my neck like one might trip over a curb. During all of this I was dutifully doing my part to keep breathing and not throw up through the little head pillow ring on the table. After she did that twice and slipped off that same stubborn knot, she sighed into my ear "you're tough as nails." I was expecting a porn bass track to start.
Laura was frustrated she couldn't completely loosen my shoulder (I think she called it a bastard at one point), but we took solace that it was no longer a tightly bound hemp rope, but more of a loose nylon rope. She said I could get a follow up in a week if it was still bad where she would just work on that one spot. And just like a little kid who was so brave at the dentist, I rewarded myself with a follow up appointment in a month where hopefully it will be a little more relaxing and a little less Beyond Thunderdome. Wiping the sweat from her brow, Laura smiled and said the next session should be easier on both of us.
I just got out of a ridiculously hot shower where I had set the shower head to something that sounded more like a lawnmower than a gentle rainfall. Our shower goes to 11, apparently, and it was awesome. And I'm happy to report I can turn my head to both the right and left without cringing. I'm sure I'm going to feel like I was beaten with a wooden spoon by tomorrow, but Laura assures me that by Saturday I should be feeling much better.
