As some of you know, I am a stresscritter, and I carry it all in my shoulders and upper back. This means I am also a huuuuge fan of massage, specifically deep tissue massage.
This is not your inkly dinky butterfly little girl massage, my friends. This is someone getting in deep and friendly with your muscle tissue, breaking down the stickies and rolling out the sinews until they feel like room-temperature play-do. This is about readjusting those ribs and spine and joints until your body moves the way it's supposed to. To quote the Boss: "Rex said the lady left him limp; love's like that, sure it is."
Pikers. Pikers all. I have just come from my first (and, please god, last) medical massage.
This was suggested to me as a way to deal with the strained neck muscles occasioned by my horrible cold/cough/not-flu-damnit of early November, which left me unable to do much of anything without my good buddy codeine as constant companion for the last week.
So once I felt up to it, I went down the street to the local homeopathic remedy and massage center, to see what they could do for me.
The place is like a cross between a cluttered Chinese apothocary, a small-town doctor's office, and a New Age head shop. This ain't your mamma's Day Spa.
So. I get on the table, wincing as I do so. Trini, a very nice, soft-spoken woman with a heavy accent and graceful hands, turns on the background music (deep forest and water sounds, yay!) and starts to explain what we're in for. My job, as I understand it, is to keep breathing, no matter what.
Okay. I can do that.
She starts in stretching the muscles to make sure that nothing is sticking together (that's bad). So far, so pleasant. She's good, and I like the choice of oils -- some sort of deep, wet, sage-y green smell to it. Then, it gets interesting. And painful. And breathing is suddenly a major accoplishment.
I am good -- even when she is working on a particularly stubborn spot deep inside my right shoulder (
alfreda89 could explain what it was, exactly, I'm sure) with the very pointy bit of her elbow, I didn't do more than hiss and mutter. And breathe. At no point did 'back off, bitch!' leave my mouth.
And then she did this steamroller thing with her arm up and down my ribs that made me forgive all. Until she started in on the other side, at which point I think I let out a little scream. Yes. That's where the injury is. Was. Ow. Also, OW! Breathe, right.
But for each painful bit, there was also stretching (lovely) and the application of hot stones (yummy and warm and relaxing) and a scalp massage, and a sinus massage (pressure points on the neck, jawline, ears and face), and the ever-wonderful thing they do with lifting the neck until you feel your spine come to attention like a brand-new baby Marine.
In short, I have been poked, prodded, elbowed, steamrollered, tugged, shifted, shoved and reshaped within an inch of my life, I think I hurt worse than I did when I went in. But there are things moving freely in my body that probably haven't in a long time, and even the aches have this content sort of glow to them.
I don't _ever_ want to do that again. But I may go back there for a regular deep tissue massage on a semi-regular basis.
And now I have to go drink a lot of water, and eat some aspirin.
------
ETA: and the next morning, despite some stiffness and soreness (I feel like I was high-sticked), I am pretty much pain-free. Yay Trini, Mistress of Pain!
This is not your inkly dinky butterfly little girl massage, my friends. This is someone getting in deep and friendly with your muscle tissue, breaking down the stickies and rolling out the sinews until they feel like room-temperature play-do. This is about readjusting those ribs and spine and joints until your body moves the way it's supposed to. To quote the Boss: "Rex said the lady left him limp; love's like that, sure it is."
Pikers. Pikers all. I have just come from my first (and, please god, last) medical massage.
This was suggested to me as a way to deal with the strained neck muscles occasioned by my horrible cold/cough/not-flu-damnit of early November, which left me unable to do much of anything without my good buddy codeine as constant companion for the last week.
So once I felt up to it, I went down the street to the local homeopathic remedy and massage center, to see what they could do for me.
The place is like a cross between a cluttered Chinese apothocary, a small-town doctor's office, and a New Age head shop. This ain't your mamma's Day Spa.
So. I get on the table, wincing as I do so. Trini, a very nice, soft-spoken woman with a heavy accent and graceful hands, turns on the background music (deep forest and water sounds, yay!) and starts to explain what we're in for. My job, as I understand it, is to keep breathing, no matter what.
Okay. I can do that.
She starts in stretching the muscles to make sure that nothing is sticking together (that's bad). So far, so pleasant. She's good, and I like the choice of oils -- some sort of deep, wet, sage-y green smell to it. Then, it gets interesting. And painful. And breathing is suddenly a major accoplishment.
I am good -- even when she is working on a particularly stubborn spot deep inside my right shoulder (
And then she did this steamroller thing with her arm up and down my ribs that made me forgive all. Until she started in on the other side, at which point I think I let out a little scream. Yes. That's where the injury is. Was. Ow. Also, OW! Breathe, right.
But for each painful bit, there was also stretching (lovely) and the application of hot stones (yummy and warm and relaxing) and a scalp massage, and a sinus massage (pressure points on the neck, jawline, ears and face), and the ever-wonderful thing they do with lifting the neck until you feel your spine come to attention like a brand-new baby Marine.
In short, I have been poked, prodded, elbowed, steamrollered, tugged, shifted, shoved and reshaped within an inch of my life, I think I hurt worse than I did when I went in. But there are things moving freely in my body that probably haven't in a long time, and even the aches have this content sort of glow to them.
I don't _ever_ want to do that again. But I may go back there for a regular deep tissue massage on a semi-regular basis.
And now I have to go drink a lot of water, and eat some aspirin.
------
ETA: and the next morning, despite some stiffness and soreness (I feel like I was high-sticked), I am pretty much pain-free. Yay Trini, Mistress of Pain!
no subject
Date: 2006-11-20 09:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-11-21 04:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-11-20 09:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-11-21 04:10 pm (UTC)That about sums it up, yeah.
no subject
Date: 2006-11-20 10:11 pm (UTC)I keep getting admonished when I go, seized up. The lovely graceful person puts on a stern smile: why didn't you come to me before now. Look at you!
But afterwards all these directions to move. Wow. My popping shoulder have been telling me I should go back...
no subject
Date: 2006-11-21 12:25 am (UTC)-Tug
no subject
Date: 2006-11-21 05:52 am (UTC)Exactly.
Much water, oh suricattus!
And then a little cat therapy...
no subject
Date: 2006-11-21 12:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-11-21 01:37 am (UTC)I get a deep tissue about every 3rd week, and I've had I three or four medicals since I've been here in Phoenix.
Yup, think I'm due for another.
Drink some more water, and don't forget to stretch when you get up in the morning!
no subject
Date: 2006-11-21 02:26 am (UTC)fun with massage
Date: 2006-11-21 03:35 am (UTC)While K was in California earlier this month, she got me an "extra" massage as a present while she had a full spa day complete with mango body butter (now a running joke), and that particular day was stress-central, so Robin wound up working my shoulders and upper back heavily. And lo, I could move them again afterward.
I'm looking forward to tomorrow evening...
AutoJim
a test...
Date: 2006-11-21 04:30 am (UTC)Re: a test...
Date: 2006-11-21 03:16 pm (UTC)It should be said that there is another way...
Date: 2006-11-21 06:09 am (UTC)As a former client of mine used to say about her Secret Weapon therapist: "I only go when I'm desperate for relief. He fixes it, but it's not gonna be pretty getting there."
Re: It should be said that there is another way...
Date: 2006-11-21 03:21 pm (UTC)If I'd been in better (aka not quite so knotted and foreshortened) shape, it would have been far more enjoyable. Which is why I really need to do preventative runs, rather than waiting until I'm in trouble.... (aka 'taking the car in for a tune-up BEFORE it conks out')
Re: It should be said that there is another way...
Date: 2006-11-21 04:09 pm (UTC)Very good analogy. And it should be said that there is no defined method of Medical massage. In fact, the massage codes on the insurance charts are for swedish and variants of swedish (sports massage, etc.) because swedish is the only form of massage that has "proven" benefits to health (stress reduction, removing tissue toxins, etc.) Manual Lymphatic massage and myofascial massage are also well-thought of by the medical community -- Pfrimmer is about to do a NIH study.
Critz contains some of the same elements as forms of myofascial release. Chiropractors who have worked on people after a Critz session generally want all their therapists to learn the technique -- it makes that big a difference before adjustments.
Re: It should be said that there is another way...
Date: 2006-11-21 04:13 pm (UTC)I did some reading on that -- sounds like Trini was using a lot of elements of that on me, yesterday. If so, I can highly recommend it!
Re: It should be said that there is another way...
Date: 2006-11-21 04:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-11-21 07:03 am (UTC)Hope it helped
Date: 2006-11-21 08:41 pm (UTC)OTOH, If you'd like I'll send you my Chicken Corn Soup recipe for use when the next wretched flu bug comes through. Ask Alfreda89, she'll vouch that it will cure the sick and raise the dead. I'd be happy to send it to you. It can help stop some of the misery. It was great meeting you at WFC and at the party. Have a great Thanksgiving.