My first massage was due to an accident. I remember very well the day I got hurt. I was working on an engine block, it was a huge 460 cubic inch Ford and I was pleased that the job had turned out so well.
A nice $500 profit was going to be in my pocket by day's end, too. Just in time, the rent on the tiny shop I ran was due.
The guy who dropped off the job obviously had some bucks so I went out of my way to impress him. I paid complete attention to every detail, the old worn out engine block was now as brand new as it could be. New pistons, everything refurbished.
I looked up and a huge flatbed truck rolled onto my lot and a lady hopped out. She had on a halter top that was so thin I could see both of her nipples right through it, the matching shorts could not have been smaller and still be called shorts.
She was there to pick up the engine job for her husband who was off building houses someplace. Hell, if I had a woman that looked like her I would never leave home!
She paid me, I loaded up all the parts and secured them, then I looked at that bare block. Puffing up my chest, I reached down and grabbed it, managing to keep a straight face as I walked out with it in a bear hug.
"Oh, my! You are really strong!" The lady said, I puffed up even more at that. I got to the back of the flatbed, there was about a foot more I had to lift to get the block up and on there.
The stab of pain felt like I had been shot right in the small of my back. I didn't want to drop the block, that was my next month's rent so I struggled and got the block up onto the truck. I strapped that down, thanked the lady and went back inside to sit down.
The slightest motion brought a stab of pain so severe all I could do was gasp. I had fucked myself up big time.
By evening I could no longer fasten my pants. I barely made it through the next day at work, I did get a back brace and that helped a little.
It was so bad that there was no such thing as a comfortable position. I could not sit or lay down, stand up either. Just a few seconds in one position would cause the pain to build up worse and worse, then I would try to move. That caused a huge stab of pain which eased slightly, then in a few seconds it would build right up again. I spent a lot of time flat on my back on the floor with my knees up, too. I did find that in a tub of warm water I got some relief but I couldn't stay in the damn tub all day.
Off to the Doctor I went, I didn't feel like I had any choice. He checked me out and diagnosed me as having a sore back, "probably" a muscle strain.
"No fucking shit!" I thought, not exactly in the best of moods. But I kept my mouth shut as he explained that it would take time and lots of rest for me to heal. Then he prescribed some pills and ordered me to not do any work for at least six weeks.
Like sure, that is going to work. I was self-employed, I had to work. Every goddammed thing I owned in the entire world was in that little machine shop I owned, and I had no helpers, it was just me.
So I took the pills just like he said, but I sure as hell didn't work that day! In fact, all I could do was sit in my chair and drool. I am positive I talked to myself a lot that day, but I don't remember for sure. I do know how many flower designs are in my curtains, I must have counted them 50 times.
I have to admit, my back didn't hurt if I took the pills. Hell, even if it had hurt I doubted I would have given a shit. I cut each pill into 4 pieces and took them that way. It took just enough of the edge off of the horrible pain that I could barely manage to work, at least that way I wasn't going to chop one of my hands off in one of my machines. By turning my hip and pressing straight I could even manage the clutch in my ratty pickup truck, too.
I decided to try a Chiropractor, what the hell. The guy poked me and probed me, twisted me around and I left hurting worse than I did before I went to see him.
He told me to come back the next day so he could do it again, explaining that any relief would take a very long time and daily treatments. I left with a nice sack full of vitamins.
Needless to say, I didn't go back.
It was a solid two months later, I was running my boring tool, the hoist I had bought but couldn't afford helped me with the lifting. I still hurt like hell, and my pants remained fastened only due to a big safety pin I used to close the gap in the front from my back and hips being so swollen.
My right nut felt like it was the size of a bowling ball compared to the other one.
Here I was, barely 28 years old and I was for all extents and purposes, disabled.
One day an old man I knew from some previous jobs came in, he had an engine block he wanted done for an old Chrysler flathead. The thing was huge. I looked at that in chagrin, I needed the job but I just was not sure I could move it around.
The guy spotted that right off.
"Hurting, huh?"
"Yea, I got to lifting too much and did myself in."
He glanced down at my back brace, grinned.
"I got just the thing for you, go see this lady." He poked a business card at me. I took it, it read, "Lynn's Massage Therapy."
Great. Just what I needed, some oversize female pounding away at me, probably she would kill me. I had seen on TV what a massage looked like a few times in movies.
"I don't think...." Was all I got out.
"Hey, Dan. She is magic, give it a try. You will like her. I have a bad back too and she helps me. She is not all stuck up and inhibited like most of them."
I stuck the card in my pocket, promptly forgot about it, went back to trying to work.
Finally Saturday rolled around and I was sitting in my chair at home, one of those frozen bags under the small of my back. I took half a pill on Saturdays, more than normal but all I had to do was sit there with the TV going. Sometimes I would count the patterns in the curtains but by now I knew the answer so mostly I just sat there and stared at the TV. I happened to reach in my pocket and found the card. I read it again, thought about it.
What the hell, I picked up the phone.
A soft voice answered, there was a trace of an accent I didn't recognize. I asked a few questions, she mentioned she had a cancellation and could get me right in. She told me her rates and gave me directions, so I took a hot shower and drove downtown to her office. It's a wonder I didn't kill someone, I could use one leg at a time and not both. Backing down the hill from my driveway meant usually using the big beam at the corner of the barn to stop and change directions. I couldn't get my foot to the brake pedal fast enough to keep from bumping into it, I had done that three times already.
