I'm reminded of why I became a Massage Therapist

I had a new client, I'll call him "Bill", come in the other day.  I'm sure that he has no idea what a great impact he has had on my life.

He called me on a Thursday night, after I had left the office.  He asked about getting an appointment the next day.  I know how it feels to be hurting and want a massage as soon as possible, and I could hear the urgency in his voice.

I called him the next morning and told him that I could see him that afternoon in a couple of hours.  He was very grateful.  I gave him directions and told him that I'd see him soon. 

My appointment in the mean time had bothered not to show up or call, which angered me because I could have given Bill her time slot, and would have worked out better for my schedule.  I had some time to kill,  so when the yellow pages salesman wanted to drop by to sell me some advertising, I accepted. 

He told me that he would be there at 1:30.  He eventually arrived at 1:45, which only left me 15 minutes until Bill would be there.  He apologized for being late; then went on to explain to me why I should advertise in the yellow pages.  I told him that I only had a little bit of time, and I'm not sure if he heard me or not, because it didn't seem to speed him up any.  I was half-paying attention to him, while at the same time, trying to listen for Bill to arrive.  My previous office, I had been told, was somewhat of a maze, and so I tried to listen for people coming for the first time, since they may be confused as to where to go.

I heard a little bit of commotion around 1:55, but with the salesman trying to convince me to spend more money that what I had budgeted for, I couldn't hear very well as to exactly what was going on.  I didn't hear anything more, so my attention went back to the difference between a one-inch ad, and a bigger business card sized ad.  Who knew there were so many choices in the phonebook?  A couple of minutes later the phone rang, and someone from an office down the road was asking for specific directions to my office, i.e. what door to go in.

At 2:15 the commotion I heard coming towards my office was unmistakable.  The salesman took that as his cue to leave, and scurried out the door.  Bill was approaching my office, and I was taken aback by Bill's appearance.   I had no idea of what medical conditions that Bill had when we scheduled the appointment.  I just knew that he was in need of a massage as soon as possible. 

 Bill was trembling and shaking so badly, that with  every couple of steps, he would simply crumble and fall to his knees.  Sweat was literally pouring off of his body.  He was apologizing profusely for being late to the appointment.  It turns out that he had misunderstood my directions to my office.  He started out in my building, but then thinking he was at the wrong place, went to another building down the street, then had to come back after receiving directions from the person who had called while I was discussing the differences between ads with graphics and straight text ads.  He had traveled a small distance to arrive at my place of business.  I had no idea what was going on medically with Bill, and I was very apprehensive about giving him a massage.  There are many contra-indications for giving a massage, and I knew that I was going to have a thorough medical history to take.  He was able to make it into my office, and then collapsed into the chair.  I offered him a glass of cold water to drink, and he was very thankful for it.  I realized that there was no way he was going to be able to fill out the intake form; I was going to have to do it for him.  I was very grateful that he told me right away what was going on with him.  I was not sure how I was going to go about asking him questions about his health, without offending him or sounding stupid.

Bill has Parkinson's Disease.  I have to take a minute here, and say that I know what Parkinson's is, and what it can do to your body, but I have never known someone personally that had it.  At that exact second, I sat back, and simply observed him for just a couple of moments.  Sweat was dripping from his head, and his clothes were drenched with sweat.    His arms and shoulders were twitching uncontrollably.  His legs were bouncing up and down, with far more energy than even my 12-month old can muster up.  But his eyes were twinkling.  He went on to tell me about how he receives massages twice a month, and how much they help him.  I was still a little unsure about the massage I was almost ready to begin.  I had so many questions-would he be able to get up on the table himself?  Would he be able to relax enough to get a massage?  So many questions went through my mind, but I knew that I had to take a deep breath, relax, and do what he had come to see me for.

I started the massage as I would any other massage.  He began telling me how he used to be a school teacher, but he has since retired.  He specifically used to be a band director.  We talked a lot about marching band, and concert band; different instruments, and what we had each played in band.  It turned out that he knew each one of my band leaders from junior high and high school.  We talked about his son, and how he and his wife were married for a while before they had him; and how much he appreciates having a child. 

The whole time we talked, I was continuing the massage.  He was still trembling, violently at times, but it seemed to me as though his body was simply starting to "melt" into the table.  He was still keyed up from walking so much, but yet his body was starting to relax. 

I was working on his legs when it really hit me.  Although he was talking to me on one level, on yet another level, his body was softening.  With each major muscle group, his body was turning into putty, and for a short time would completely relax.  As I would move on to another muscle group, the previous group would again begin the trembling associated with Parkinson's, but it was on a much lesser scale.

I did not want to feel sorry for Bill, because I knew that that was not what he needed from me.  I was there to work on his muscles, and to convince his body to relax.  But I did feel empathy.  I cannot imagine what it would be like to be in a state of constant movement like that.  I have so many clients who have a certain ailment, or simply suffer from being too stressed.  I have never had a client like Bill. 

I was finished with the massage, and was starting to do the finishing touch.  It's a massage procedure that's called stroking.  It's done with a feather light touch, very  slowly, moving only inches per seconds.  It's a very calming procedure, and always puts people in a state of complete relaxation.  With Bill, I finished stroking at his feet.  I firmly, yet gently, took a hold of his feet, and applied a small amount of pressure.  Just enough pressure to get his body to be aware of where I was, and to sort of "ground" him.  In a sense, a subtle way of coming back to reality after an hours worth of a full body massage.  While I was holding my pressure, his entire body stopped and was still.  I was amazed, but thought that it was only a fluke.  I began up at his head again, lightly stroking downwards, towards his feet.  While stroking, his body was trembling, but once again, as I held on to his feet, complete silence, and better yet, complete peace.  I wanted to hold his feet forever, if it meant the tremors would magically disappear from his life.  It was the hardest thing I had to do-leaving that room.  I wanted to do more for him-somehow get the Parkinson's out of his system.  But then I realized that he came to me for a massage, that's all he expected from me.  And that's what I did.  What I didn't expect though, was for him to give me something in return.  He touched my heart.  He made me remember why I wanted to go into massage therapy.  I wanted to help people feel better.  I didn't know that he would help ME feel better.