The most embarassed I've ever been

So. When I did my back in I wasn’t really sure what the best course of action would be. I could go to the Doctors but I didn’t really know what he’d be able to do for me. Maybe refer me to a physio that I would get to see in 2 years time at the next available appointment. Then I thought I could try a chiropractor but I’m pretty sure they cost money.

The boyfriend suggested going to see his Dad who is a doctor but who also does a few of the hippy things, hypnotherapy and acupuncture are part of his repertoire.

And the boyfriend assured me that acupuncture really sorted him out when he had a bad back.

So in we went and his Dad got the massage table up and said to me “Would you like the boyfriend to sit in with you while we do this?”

“Erm...yeah?” I said. I mean I know I’m not the world’s bravest person but I reckon I can handle a couple of pins in the back.

But.

The boyfriend had neglected to tell me that not only would his Dad be acupuncturing me (yeah I just made up a word, what of it?) but he would be performing a kind of massage called the Bowen Technique which would promote my muscles to heal themselves.

I don’t know much more. I had stopped listening because I had realised one thing and one thing only.

You must remove clothing to have this done.

In my head, I’d just push up my top a bit, have a couple of needles stuck in where it hurts (right hand side, lower back) and I’d be cool.

At no point had it crossed my mind that I’d be taking my top off in front of my potential future father in law.

“Right so if you want to take your t-shirt off. Leave your bra on though.” Boyfriend’s Dad says to me.

LET THE NIGHTMARE BEGIN.

As I’m taking my top off I think to myself, “This is really fine. Just whip it off, throw yourself on the table on your front and he never has to really see anything.”

T-shirt was whipped off.

Threw myself on to the tabl....oh wait. Yeah, no I can’t do that. BECAUSE I HAVE A BAD BACK. Instead I end up having to be helped on to the table by boyfriend and his Dad in a most ungainly fashion. At that point I wasn’t sure what was worse, the pain in my back or the deep rooted shame and embarrassment that I knew was, at that very moment in time, scarring me for life.

Bowen itself is fine. It’s not really a massagey kind of thing. And it doesn’t hurt at all. Just felt like he was putting his hands in random places on my back.

And the pins are fine. You can feel little tiny nips as they go in, but I wouldn’t say it even registers on the pain scale.

“All done.” I thought to myself. “Good job. You got through it with only minimal mortification.”

“Now if you just want to turn over on to your back.” His Dad said.

Say WHAT?

It doesn’t just take place on your back. Oh no. That would be too easy.

There were many things to consider here, as I went to move on to my front:
1. The Slippage Factor. Could I be sure that everything was where it should be. I’ve been fairly well blessed in the chest area and sometimes it can be a struggle to keep things where they should be. (Yes I know I need new bras but they’re so flippin expensive when you have enormous chesticles)
2. The Mesh Factor. The cups of the bra I was wearing were half some mesh-like material. Could I be sure that the mesh was covering everything it needed to cover?
3. The Ungainly Factor. Is there any way to gracefully turn on to your back on a very small massage table whilst at the same time checking Factors 1 and 2?

(I believe the answer is no)

Did it work?

I couldn’t honestly tell you. I was so horrendously embarrassed through the whole ordeal that I can’t imagine I was terribly relaxed.

His Dad did warn me that sometimes, the next day, the pain is worse. And it was. Oh my goodness it was. It had improved towards the end of the week but I’d also spent 2 straight days lying on the floor so I wouldn’t like to attribute one thing over the other to it.

I did have another session at the weekend (I made sure I was well prepared this time) and Monday was my first pain free day which made me very happy. Until I energetically threw myself into the hovering and ironing and ended up back on the floor by 8.30pm. My bad.

Would I try Bowen again? Yeah I think I probably would. Would I get my kit off in front of my boyfriend’s Dad again? I’m thinking.... no.