4 therapists (so far). One opinion. One reaction – all reduced to laughter as none had encountered such a knotty specimen as I presented. The unknotting work has begun. Neck and back combo done outdoors in a warm breeze. Ayurveda next, a practice which combines preventive and palliative care. Warm oils were drizzled over me as I was kneaded by 4 hands in a 75 minute Abhyanga massage.
A glutton for punishment I progressed to a deep tissue massage, a very deep tissue workout. An experience so pain filled, I yelped and whined but Natasha persuaded me to go with it, she thinks she can fix me. Even my feet caused hilarity in the final session of the day because they were so rigid and tense, my lovely practitioner couldnt take control.
Hot stones….Hot stones may just be the answer. Some bit of the knot seems to have eased and the stoner therapist struggled to get me to leave.
Whilst my brain may finally be edging toward recovery mode, my stress has taken root, like burs in neck, shoulders, thighs, calves AND feet. I notice that after these treatments my back is bruised all over. Royally bruised I should say – in a very fetching shade of purple. Now looking forward to Chavutti and more deep tissue “work” …Chavutti, I gather, involves someone walking along my spine whilst hanging onto a rope. Apparently I will end up feeling taller as my spine is ironed out. I am suspending my cynical side and, for the time being, I believe!
As I enjoyed/endured I focused (in a mindful kinda way) on how wonderful it was to be touched again. Cancer is such a journey of being handled. I hadn’t clocked how much this other handling was missing from my life. Maybe some of the tears were about loss and re – connecting with a world of loving people. As my head was massaged and my hair stroked I seemed to recall a softer version of myself bubbling up. Maybe I can start to bring this less brittle person back, I can hope…
My other thought, as my feet were indulged, was the known reaction of my, now dead, friend. She was so averse to feet touching, that, even with 2 dislocated shoulders, nobody was allowed to cut her toenails or even approach them. She would have shut her ears and started a loud LA LA LA refrain when I tried to tell her about it. Not that it would have stopped me.