***Please take note… this blog almost didn’t get written because I was monitoring and not wanted to bruise any of my friends’ feelings. Then, I realized that nobody else expects me to self-monitor; perhaps I should allow myself some latitude… Yeah, I definitely need to cut myself some more slack. Bring on the sloth…

I love my family of friends.

I have a wonderful, thoughtful group of faith family.

They are fantastically altruistic and gracious.

I (we) truly have been blessed to have happened upon (and been adopted by) the Northwoods’ family.

That being said, let me tell you about how no good deed goes unpunished in my world these days…

Last month, I was gifted the most awesome gift. Ten or so of my friends got together and gave me a gift certificate for an hour and a half massage at a local yoga studio/spa. The appointment had been made for me and one of the gift givers volunteered to be on call if she was needed while I went to enjoy my 90 minutes of bliss.

* As an aside… the appointment my friends scheduled for me conflicted with another friend’s wedding; but everything was set up for me, so….

I arrived on time for the appointment, but ended up waiting far longer than I expected. Apparently, the massage therapist forgot to write the appointment in her book and hadn’t come in to work that day –> so I rescheduled for a Wednesday at noon when Honey would be out lunching with other friends.

And maybe things happen for a reason, I missed the wedding, but I did get to take an afternoon nap that I hadn’t been expecting but sorely needed.

Fast forward two and a half weeks, I am back at the spa. I have just met the massage lady and I am about ready to be pampered. She was quite professional and actually read the health release that I filled out. Things are looking good… She asks about my past experience with massages. I have a history of having dabbled in many different attempts at pain management, the best I have found for attacking nerve/muscle pain is Julstro Muscular Therapy, a massage technique developed by one of my NUUC friends. It is a painful experience to say the very least (excruciating would be a more apt definition) but if one can breathe through the pain, the rewards are almost immediate and quite dramatic.

The massage therapist working on me was also a yoga teacher. She was pleased that I am comfortable with deep tissue massage and seemed tickled that I am aware that I must get through my pain to get beyond my pain (it doesn’t matter if you get that at all – the important thing was that I did).

The last thing she said to me before starting to work on my neck and shoulders was, “I’ve never worked on anybody with fibromyalgia before.”

I should have gotten up and gotten dressed right then.

The massage itself felt great. Quite the cornucopia of sensory treats… aroma therapy, white noise, heated mattress pad, and being rubbed on all are just such a winning combination. For a while all was good in the world.

For a while…..

I made sure to drink plenty of water the rest of the day to prevent aches and pains…..

Yeah. It didn’t work.

By the time it was getting dark out, I was feeling it. A lot.

My neck and shoulders were on fire. I could not turn my head to look over either shoulder nor could I lift either arm as there felt to be a tendon connecting the top of the spinal column to each upper arm and whenever I attempted to move either my head or my arms I paid the price. Dearly.

Tomorrow will be one week since I have had my massage.

I am back to about 80% mobility in my neck. I have my arms back. I have been eating Flexeril like m&ms hoping that if the muscles relax enough I can access the pressure points to free the spasms. It doesn’t seem to be working as well as I would have hoped.

I feel this incident kinda sums up my existence lately. Things are so beautifully warped and twisted that right seems left and up is down.

And by the way, I blame cancer (cuz it sucks).

Did I mention that I have a fantastic group of friends?

Who I know love me and only want good things for me and are bound to feel horrible when they read about my experience, but shouldn’t because they are wonderful, thoughtful people. Really.

I love you (and prescription pain relievers)

The One I Almost Didn’t Write

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