That's all I can say.
"Why" you ask?
I just got home from a massage.
Now before you pass judgement and say "Oh, the poor girl, she had a massage...bitatch". This wasn't one of those easy-peasy massages you get while vacationing at Cabo. Where the gentle breeze is blowing the airy curtains of your cabana with the sound of the ocean as a backdrop for your rubdown. Not the frou-frou umbrella coconut drink waiting for you when it's finished kind of massage.
No. This was one of those therapeutic, deep tissue muscle massages where you want to ask her to "STOP, for the love of God" kind of massage. Where for a moment you think about asking for your handbag so you can bite down on in order to keep you from screaming aloud kind of massage.
I've been experiencing some lower back pain. It came all of a sudden. Sharp bursts of pain for no apparent reason. I didn't do anything differently than the normal routine. No extra exercise (bad me), no extra lifting of items, no change of mattresses or pillows...all normal everyday routine. And then BAM! Sharp back pain. Very sharp back pain.
Pain severe enough that I didn't want to do anything. It was hard to move. It hurt to move. I was afraid it might get aggravated and cause me more discomfort, if that was at all possible.
So, I called Lakewood Masotherapy. I've been there before...many times. Sometimes I went for relaxation. Other times I went for specific problems. But I'd never in all the times going have had Julie as my technician.
Julie is awesome. All of 100 pounds of fit, trim and very nice 60 year old Julie. Upon meeting her I thought, "This isn't going to be a very good, strong massage."
I was SOOOO wrong.
That little woman got into areas of my muscular structure that I didn't know you could get to without surgery. Amazingly, it turns out it wasn't my back at all that was causing the problem. It was my glutes up through my hips that was the culprit in causing the severity of my discomfort. Apparently that creates the band of pain across your lower back. Who knew?
The massage Julie gave was so intense.
Normally...you are so relaxed at the end of your treatment that they have to wake you when it's all over. At some point you just slip off to la-la land to where the whales you've been listening to are mating. The technician whispers to you, "Take your time..." which translates into "Your time is up. Get your ass off my table so I can get another client in here stat." Normally...you spend the next few minutes trying to scrape the dried drool off your cheek.
There wasn't anything normal about today's treatment. Today the after affects were not quite normal, for me. There were a few common threads of body after shock, although this time there was no drool. There was no total relaxation. No thought of "why does this have to end". There was the relief of it being over.
You find that you can now unclench your hands which have instinctively turned into claws; fingers splayed out gripping onto the terry in an attempt to hold onto...something. The knowledge that perhaps you didn't scream out loud after all. The satisfaction that you made it.
But after any massage when you come out of the room, trying to speak coherently is impossible. At least for me. All those nasty toxins released into your system bouncing around and creating havoc with the semblance of sanity that you are desperately trying to retain. The deep muscle massage makes you sound and act like you've just downed two large glasses of wine in a 2 minute period.
"Have you been drinking ma'am" the officer will ask.
"Why no, I just had a massage."
It'd be just like that 'Driving Under the Influence' commercial they've been airing on television. You know the one, where the guy opens his window for the police and beer or red wine comes spilling out everywhere. For me, there would be masseurs with their handy-dandy massage oil bottles clipped on their hips exiting the car...
"Drink lots of water today!" Bright and cheery Miss Julie said, "You might be sore later."
No Shit, Sherlock.
I presently feel good. But the 'it hurts so bad' kind of good. Like I just worked out for the first time in twelve years kind of good. Like the somebody please kill me kind of good.
I'm so damn sore right now that to sit upright in a posture perfect position whilst typing this, I may just die...sore. My shoulders ache. My neck cracks when I move my head from side to side. My hips are killing me. I can visualize little thumb print bruises lining both sides of my spine starting to show.
But the upside is there is no more back pain. Miss Julie took care of that.
I would like to have those glasses of wine now. Maybe they would help take the edge off the "you might be a little sore" pain.
And because it hurts so good...?
I made another appointment for next Wednesday.
God help me.