Atlantic Crossing - Part Nine

Today the storm continued its assault. The captain spoke on the public address on schedule, at noon, and tells us this will be the worst day of the storm and by tonight it should begin to abate. We hear from a number of people the storm was taking its toll on several passengers. Mel and I never did get the sea sickness patch. Seems gin has the same medicinal effect.

So today was to be another day of rest. Mel took up her station by the indoor pool in the Jaws, with her book, and immediately fell asleep. You just can't help it. You crawl in there and it was like the enchanted field of poppies in the Wizard of Oz. You're gone. Comatose. I stopped by to check in on her on my way to the spa. I was heading for my first hot rock massage, a little apprehensive, wondering what the Hell that entails.

I found the spa. Deck 12, forward. In fact, as forward as you can go. As you waited to be called you were sitting above the bridge with full floor-to-ceiling glass looking out over the bow of the boat as it sailed east. They had you all relaxed on the comfy couches sipping tea and all was completely tranquil. Like a lamb to the slaughter.

A hot rock massage is all about very smooth stones, about the size of your hand, heated in hot water and applied to specific areas up and down the spine. Yeow! When they first landed I thought something must be wrong and I was willing to bet these things were stuck to my skin. Not just hot. DAMN HOT!! But I was thinking these folks must know what they are doing and I didn't want to be the wimp leaping from the table and running down the hall naked, screaming my exposed ass off. Besides, if there's one thing I've learned how to suck up over the last while it's a wee bit o' pain. So I waited it out and tried to focus on the other more pleasant stuff that should begin shortly.

Looking back I now think this bitch was just nasty. Not fond of men?? She wasn't that big but she sure packed a punch. And in no time she is up on the table with what seemed like most of her weight bearing down on my back. I can hear the titanium in my spine doing its click, click, click thing with each exertion she lays on. Not over the top but right to the limit for sure. At first I was thinking that this may have been a mistake. I have had 18 months of physical manipulation by the best in the business and I was never concerned for a minute. Until this.

Things eventually settled down. And after my initial shock, I accepted that I was not going to suffer any permanent damage and began to relax. She took the hot rocks, dipped 'em in hotter oil and used them to apply pressure to the muscles up and down the limbs. I expect I could have told her that she was freakin' me out but I'll admit there was a bit of that manly, macho, I-can-take-anything-you-can-dish-out-baby thing going on. And in the beginning I was right on the verge of "Uncle!!! Uncle!!! FOR CHRIST'S SAKE, UNCLE!!!! for at least the first 10 minutes. Which, by the way, is actually a very long time to have to be freakin' out about something like this. But by the end of the 90 minutes, I think I had relaxed to the point that I had either past out from the pain or I was sound asleep.