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Birthday massage~


I had my birthday massage this afternoon.

My husband had given me a gift certificate back in March to the Maha Yoga Center, a local New Age-y place in town.

It's kind of pathetic when life gets so busy that it takes three months to schedule some pleasure. Sometimes I find myself too busy to even want pleasure.

"A party? I can't, thanks. I have plans." (A nap)

Scheduling the massage took a while. Then I made an appointment with a massage therapist I'd had before, but had to cancel to cover a story for the paper.

When I called to reschedule I asked for a specific date and time. The receptionist said, "We have an opening with Tom. Do you mind a male?"

Of course I didn't mind getting a massage from a man. Why would I? Why should I?

"You know," I said, "this might seem weird, but I'd really rather have a woman."

Where did that come from?

She told me it wasn't weird at all, and that's why she'd asked; most women feel that way she said.

But I'd surprised myself with my response.

My first gynecological exam at 18 was with my old family doctor, the silver-haired gentleman who'd given me my polio shots and taken out my tonsils.

In those days, I didn't even know that there could be women doctors. All of my doctors had been male. I never felt embarrassed. They were doctors after all.

I jumped ship when I became pregnant and heard of a woman Gyn/Ob who was recommended with much praise. She'd been through childbirth. She'd understand, I thought.

Her partner, also a woman, delivered my second child. When it was David's turn, I saw another doctor, a man this time. Both women had dropped obstetrics because of malpractice insurance costs.

The red flag flew when this doctor finished an office exam to determine how close to delivery I was, and held a conversation with me through the V of my legs that were still in stirrups. He didn't understand. He was arrogant. I'd struggled to sit up, my belly a hindrance. He didn't help. I thought of saying something about his disrespect. I'll always wish I had.

So today I had my massage with Susanne. I lay there and knew she'd understand legs that needed to be shaved, and soft flesh at the waist. I could settle in and relax in her understanding hands.

Comments

Heather said…
hooray for massages! I've never had one, but maybe I should give it a shot. I did, however, have a gyno exam today, and just wrote about it, so I guess my timing was right on! Quite an adventure.
Unknown said…
It's interesting that these studios have professionals with excellent training. How do I know? My wife teaches (part-time) college-level anatomy and physiology to students at a massage training school. Each course is about 100 hours of classroom training.

The studio may not have been named All State but you were in good hands.
Ruth L.~ said…
It was clear that this woman knew what she was doing. And she did it well. I know enough about anatomy to know when she was aiming at the insertion point of the muscles, and I had a DaVinci like image of my body at one point. Probably not the usual visualization most people do when having a massage. :>)

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