A friend has been encouraging me to go to a massage therapist with her. She has a bad back and she thought a massage might help my migraines, so yesterday evening, I decided to go with her to just “watch.”
We went to the licensed massage therapist’s home, where she runs her business out of a spare bedroom. It was a very pretty room, painted blue and decorated with candles. There was new age music playing. She didn’t look very new age though. In her mid thirties, she had big, blonde teased hair and she was wearing light blue eye shadow with heavy eyeliner. Her nails were painted a metallic lilac.
As she worked on my friend’s sciatica, it didn’t seem too extreme, and since my friend was looking very relaxed. I decided to let her help me with my migraines.
It was a huge mistake. The pressure of her fingers on my skull was too painful and I felt like I was Uncle Fester on The Addam’s Family having his head crushed in a vise. She insisted she was hardly using any pressure.
She tried some other manipulations. It was worse. The intensity of the discomfort was so bad that I felt as if I was going to throw up. Tears were welling up in my eyes. I wanted to tell her to stop, but I didn’t want to be a baby.
Finally, she gave up on my head and she tried to do some reflexology on my feet, which she said had helped some people with headaches.
Afterwards, I had my friend take me straight home. I didn’t tell her how awful it had been, because I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but as soon as she left, I went straight to bed with a pain pill.
I'm still not feeling so great today.