... and almost doesn't walk out.
When we entered the 3rd week without our worldly belongings in our new place, we were still champs about the whole thing. I had mastered a few meals without any of our kitchen tools, the 3 outfits we each brought were in constant rotation, audiobooks are the main form of entertainment in the house.
Just because we are champs, doesn't mean that we are immune to suffering and the days of sleeping on the floor had finally taken its toll on my back. I had done everything possible to strengthen and stretch my panicked muscles, but it was a losing battle. Daniel that suggested I stop trying to suffer through it, and go see someone about it - namely, to go and get a massage. So, get a massage I did.
There is an Indian restaurant below the business, and as you make your way up the stairs, the lovely, spicy smells of tikka masalas and vindaloos follow you.
I've been spoiled the past few years and have gotten used to my local spa that warms the massage bed with heated blankets, keeps the lights down low and lets me choose what kind of scented oil they use. This place was nothing like that.
I was greeted at the door and directed to a small table behind some curtains. It was a small, but pleasant and clean space. As I lay down on the cold (but sturdy) table, wrapped in a towel, the masseuse came in, and I told her where it hurt. There was a language barrier, but we understood each other. She got to work.
And so began the longest 60 minutes of my life.
You know every movie that has a comedic scene that involves a massage? Well, that is what it would have looked like to an observer. I flailed like a fish out of water as I was pummelled, stepped on and sat upon (yes, she massaged me with her butt). There was more then one time that I cried out and literally tapped the table to call "Uncle!". Each time, this would be the response:
Masseuse: "Pain?"
Me: "Yes! Pain!"
Masseuse: *pats part in pain* "Ah, good pain."
...and then she would continue.
In the end, I was able to walk out with most of my body still functional. I didn't feel worse (which was surprising) but I'm not sure if it was better. Was it worth the money, time and the anxiety of not being sure if I would ever walk again? Hmmm... undecided. One thing I know for sure, I'm going back for that delicious smelling Indian food.
