Friday, May 9, 2008

Oy, her aching back

There is a new man in my life. His name is Shaan. Yes, he spells it like that. He is 6'3 and African American, a former Army man, and at the moment, one of the most important men in my life.

He is my massage therapist.

Now before I come off completely indulgent, getting flowers on my toes and massages, let me assure you that this is for medicinal reasons.

I'm SERIOUS y'all. Hear me out.

I have a condition, which a physical therapist diagnosed years ago as "Genetically Wimpy Shoulder Syndrome." Over the past two decades I have spent a lot of time visiting physical therapists and chiropractors and yoga classes trying to keep them in line, no pun intended. Even still, I constantly break out in this spontaneous shoulder roll/shrug in a vain attempt to loosen them up, which, in college, earned me the nickname of Igor.

Pregnancy majorly aggravated this condition, so that I am in pain most of the time. Now, not pain like many people who have real reasons to complain. Just constant, always in the back of my thoughts, pain.

** I am not whining, or at least I am not whining for no reason.
I really do have a point. **

Well, someone brilliant came up with the idea of Massage Envy and I visited there last month and met my man Shaan. He was the best masseuse I have ever had, and trust me, I have had plenty. As he was both massaging me and performing physical therapy techniques on my aching body, a PT's words from years ago rang through my brain, "You need massage therapy more than any patient I have ever seen, but your insurance does not cover it." And I decided that Massage Envy was the answer, because it is affordable and convenient. And has Shaan. Voila. I bought a membership. I am getting a massage at least once a month, or recently, as the pain has been keeping me up at night, twice a month.

Hallelujah.

I will go ahead and make this #5 on the gratitude list. Thank you God for Shaan.

Ok, I told you I have a point. Here it is.


Mrs. Duggar is having baby number #18. God bless her and good for her. I (obviously) do not judge women who choose to have lots of blessings, and from what I can gather, the Duggars are excellent parents. The world will be a better place with more Duggars.

I only have one question.

It's not 'how does she do it', because a really tacky person might try to make the case that she has it a little easier than I do, because she has about 13 in-house babysitters. Not being tacky I won't make that point, I will just say that she does it fan-duggar-tastically.

My question is how does her body do it?

Y'all. How is her uterus not falling out of her? Literally. I have been on a mission trip to Peru with a gynecologist - trust me, they fall out. Fairly common in women who have birthed several children. Gotta be inevitable with women who have birthed 18. Saw it with my own eyes lots of times, was effectively traumatized and therefore am fully prepared for the perfect Dwight Schrute comment to result in my innards just shooting right across the family room. So what's her secret to organ retention?

And does Mrs. Duggar feel that she has aged 10 years with each baby? Because in Duggar years, that would make her 221.

Does Jim Bob make fun of Mrs. Duggar every night because she has to have five pillows, each of a specific level of firmness, one between her knees, one supporting her lower back, one under her head, one over her ears to block out certain snoring sounds and another for whacking husband over head for making fun of her?

Does Mrs. Duggar find it difficult to concentrate on the deep lyrics of ancient hymns because she is too obsessed with worrying that the other churchgoers think she is lazy and irreverent because she has to sit down halfway through?

Does Mrs. Duggar have to take a little red pillow embroidered with a teddy bear and a Christmas tree to every movie and restaurant to mimic her non-existent lumbar muscles?

Have Mrs. Duggar's feet increased a full half size, and caused pre-partum unsightly yet tranquil bunions to suddenly shriek, demanding surgery?

Is Mrs. Duggar a pill popper, sampling a different drug each night to battle hormone induced insomnia?

Does Mrs. Duggar sometimes think she is going mad because even with earplugs in, the box fan on high, and a pillow over her head, she still gets up almost every night about 4am because she is convinced that somewhere in her house she hears a baby crying Momma?

Lastly, does Mrs. Duggar dream of Shaan? I mean, she must. She has had 4.5 more babies than I have. I can only assume that her back and hips ache 4.5 times as much as mine do. She must dream of Shaan. She must need him so, so desperately.

I think that is what I am sending her for a baby gift. An hour with Shaan.

She's earned it. 4.5 more times than I have.

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