I've been seeing a registered massage therapist for more than 20 years. Not the same RMT but three separate people who I've seen more than once.
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| Image: lintmachine, via Openly. |
I first went to an RMT after I complained to my doctor of constant soreness in my neck and shoulders. It seemed that these areas are where I tend to carry my stress, and working at an office job where I can spend hours on end sitting didn't help. And so, she wrote me a prescription to have a massage.
DW was already seeing an RMT for back pain that she was feeling while pregnant with our first child. She loved this masseuse, Dee*, and recommended that I make an appointment with her. I did and I saw her for almost 20 years.
The pandemic kept me from visiting Dee and other factors that I deem as fallout from some of the sentiment around the lockdowns made me decide that when I was able to freely see an RMT again, I decided I wanted to go to someone else—someone closer to home.
And so, more than a year ago, I started seeing someone from a chain of massage-therapy clinics. Jay was great, but she was no Dee. And Jay* likes to talk. A lot. Where Dee and I would exchange pleasant small talk as she was starting, we'd then grow quiet as she did her magic in working out all my pains: not just my neck and shoulders but also my back, my legs (cycling tended to produce knots), my glutes, and anything else that was bothering me at my visit.
I would often fall asleep during a massage, something that Dee accepted as a compliment. I couldn't fall asleep during one of Jay's massages because even if I stopped talking, she would go on about her family, or her favourite TV show, or travel, or anything.
When she worked out a particularly stubborn knot, she would say out loud, "Boy, I'm good."
When Jay left for maternity leave, I sought another RMT elsewhere. I found the clinic where Jay operated to be quite expensive, plus I was prompted to add a tip on top of the high fee. In January, I vowed to cut out tipping for anything other than at restaurants, at barber shops, in taxi services, and the like, as it bothered me so much that I wrote a post about the out-of-control practice.
I had my last massage with Jay just before DW and I left for Costa Rica. Come March, I was due for another massage and my neck was really giving me trouble. It was hard to find a comfortable position in which to lie in bed, and it was taking me a long time to get comfortable and fall asleep. So one night, as I struggled to get comfortable, I picked up my phone and, using Google Maps, searched for a massage therapist close to home.
In addition to the clinic where I had been seeing Jay, I saw a place that was only a seven-minute walk from home. The reviews looked good and the cost of an hour massage was less than what I was paying at the clinic.
In booking, I saw that this RMT was booked solid for weeks on end, except for a single opening at the start of the day, two days hence. I booked it, counting my lucky stars.
I found out, at the appointment, that the spot I got had been cancelled shortly before I started looking for a booking.
That massage was amazing. Cee* knew how to find my tight spots and was able to loosen up my neck so that that evening, I didn't have to struggle to find a comfortable position in which to sleep. Cee also worked on my glutes, hips, and quads, which were also bothering me.
Throughout the massage, Cee was silent.
I just visited Cee again, yesterday, and she massaged me from head to toe. We did chat a little, at the beginning of the appointment, but she would never initiate the conversation, and when I fell silent, she stayed silent.
I've referred DW to Cee, and she's also had two appointments with her. After yesterday's appointment, I had what I thought might be an awkward conversation with DW.
"At your first appointment," I said, "did Cee tell you to undress as much as you felt comfortable?"
"Yeah," said DW, "but I've always stripped right down. Even with Dee."
"Really?" I said. "With Dee and with Jay, I was told to strip down to my underwear."
"I only wear my underwear when I need to be treated near my sensitive region. I didn't wear underwear with my first appointment with Cee but I wore panties for the second appointment. And I never keep my bra on."
"At my first appointment, Cee told me to undress as much as I felt comfortable, and so I've kept my underwear on. But for both appointments, when she worked on my glutes, she ended up pulling down my underwear so she could get where she needed to go. She also slid the leg part of my boxer-briefs up and over my cheek when she needed to get there. I'm wondering if I should just take them off for our next appointment, should I need my glutes worked on."
"Whatever makes you comfortable."
"But how does that make me look?" I asked. "I keep my underwear on for two appointments and then at my third, I'm buck-naked?"
"I'm sure she's used to that," said DW. "It might show her that you trust her."
How about you? If you've ever had a massage with an RMT, have you stripped down fully? Should it make a difference if your RMT is the opposite sex?
I mean, I'm almost 60 so I'm done worrying about being naked around someone, especially in a professional setting, such as a doctor's office or on a massage table. But getting naked for a massage is something I've never done before because the other RMTs have told me to keep my undies on.
I'll see how comfortable I feel at my next appointment.
Happy Thursday!
* not her real name.
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