Brain Foot
Warning: This is a very long (and painful) post.
I went for a session of foot reflexology last Saturday. Remember I sprained my neck the day before and by Saturday it was so painful I could not turn my neck left or right or get in and out of the car comfortably.
And so, my wife suggested that I give this guy, who happened to be the brother-in-law of her Chinese language tuition teacher who just came back from Singapore where he worked as a traditional masseur, a try.
And so I called him, explained my problem and made an appointment. At lunch time, I drove over to where he asked me to meet him, half expecting to be escorted into a Lavendar and Ginger aromatherapy filled room with the lights dimmed, soft soothing Bali music filling the air mingled with the sound of water coming from a man-made water fountain nearby. I also expected to be massaged on the part where it hurts (ie my shoulder and back).
It was not to be.
Instead I found myself at the front porch of a mansion owned by “another Chinese Language student of my sister-in-law’s class”, according to the masseur. I was made to sit in a chair and ordered to place my legs onto a foot stool in front of me. I protested saying it is my back that hurts and not my legs. “It’s okay”, he said, “massaging the feet will heal the shoulder and back” !!
And so, there I was, sitting and sweating in the noon day heat, under the porch of a house which I don’t even know belongs to who, and he proceeded to give me a foot massage. The only ‘aroma’ was from the ‘Nivea’ cream that he used to massage my feet. There was no soft music, no dimmed lights and no water fountain. There was a dog nearby which was eyeing me suspiciously though!
The foot massage session was:
1. Excruciatingly painful. He attributed this to the immense collection of ‘uric acid’ in my body which he was trying to exorcise from my body by inducing neuropathic pain. (Funny, coz the last time I checked, my uric acid level was normal).
2. Extremely noisy - partly from the half-endured, half relenting grunts and semi-screams that I let out from trying to bear the ‘exorcism’ (it wouldn’t be proper for a doctor and a guy some more, to scream bloody murder out loud in the noon day sun right?); the other half of the noise was from the masseur who proceeded to ‘educate’ me on the various pressure points in my foot. He told me that there are 63 points in each foot corresponding to a specific part of my internal organs. I yawned a couple of times but he didn’t seem to get it that I was not interested.
Anyway, for instance, my brain, apparently is located in my big toes and I had a heck of a lot of ‘uric acid’ purged from my brain that day. I was almost in tears (due to pain, not estacy) by the time he was massaging my ‘testicles’. Ugh!
I seemed to have ‘uric acid’ everywhere, kidneys, spleen, liver, eyes, muscles, veins, intestines, everywhere. I was a walking talking breathing uric acid factory.
3. Extremely commercialised. That fella was trying to get me to come for ‘more sessions’ because “one session is never enough”. He prescribed that I should be tortured massaged at least once a week, if not once every two weeks. I was non-commital with my answer (it was hard to say “yes, I want more of it” when you are in so much pain! I was trying hard not to kick his lights out with my other leg).
4. A (mis)fortune telling session. While trying to make small talk, he was trying to predict what kind of lifestyle I lead and what habits I have. He said he could tell (while turning my feet into mush) that I probably drink alcohol, smokes, lift heavy weights, eats loads of sea food and exercise little; to which I replied “no, no, no, no and no”. He seemed pretty disappointed that he didn’t kena a single time. Sigh.
And I didn’t tell him I am a doctor. He probably thought I am a labourer.
Anyway, the ultimate ‘humiliation’ was when he went on to massage my back after he was done with my feet (which I couldn’t feel anymore).
I was asked to sit on the foot stool and face the house. I was asked to remove my shirt (yes, you read it right), my chain and spectacles.
Sigh…
And so there I was, an ID physician, father of 2 kids, respected member of the church, lecturer and researcher, stripped to my waist for the world to see (thankfully there was no one out in the neighbourhood then and the dog seemed disinterested). Just when I thought it’s okay, the owner of the house (a siew lai lai type) came back with her equally siew lai lai friend. It was a moment of intense mortification. She and her friend walked past me, said a cursory “hello” and pretended not to notice my semi-naked state. They were probably thinking to themselves “poor paraplegic man” !! I mumbled a greeting in return and wished the earth would swallow me up.
The masseur then went on to pound my back and shoulders with the force of 3 hurricanes combined. I nearly coughed out my testicles vomited blood. Apparently I have uric acid mountains in between my shoulder blades and he was the TNT to blow it all away.
One hour and 10 minutes later, it was over.
I had no more shame or honour (and also RM40 poorer).
Sigh…
I really miss my blind massuer in Brickfields, KL.
My neck felt the same after that, the next day it was better and today it’s still stiff but it doesn’t hurt so bad anymore. Maybe it’s because I have less ‘uric acid’ now…
I still can’t feel my feet….
Tues, 091007 @ 1356
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