My back has been killing me for over a week. Never great at the best of times from lack of exercise and too much lard. I was sitting on the edge of the bed and made the mistake of asking if I was getting up or going to bed. Tanya hit me with a head on tackle, pushing me backwards onto the bed. If I sit on the edge of the bed and lay back on my own, it will put my back out. But then she jumped on me and started pummeling me shouting "Stav-eye, stav-eye" (Get up, get up). I am laughing so hard, I cannot defend myself.
Two days later the back muscles stiffened up. I could walk, sit or lie. But moving from one to the other was torture. Yesterday I went to what passes for a chiropractor here. I'd been to him in March. Professional clinic - chiropractor, dentist, optician, not sure what else. After a 30 minute work over and with 9 more times in the works, starting Thursday, I was worse than before. I knew after a few more treatments it would be OK but I was in agony so Dr. Tanya, Veterinarian, wanted action.
Andrei has a friend who does massage and chiropractic. House calls. So Tanya decided we'd try him today and not wait for Thursday's appointment. Sergey is a young man, about Andrei's age, sturdy, as they say. Diploma's from Moscow and somewhere else. His wife lives in Toronto three years now, has completed a two year course at a Canadian College and wants to open a private massage clinic with Sergey who is in the process of immigrating. One can only hope they don't rub each other the wrong way.
Anyhow, Sergey told me to peel down to my socks and lie on the bed. Then he took his shirt off revealing a barrel chest and more hair than a silverbacked gorilla to borrow a phrase. I am wondering exactly what kind of back treatement I am in for. No worries. Russian massage is not a career for the physically unfit. This guy was dripping sweat like an Irish step-dancer in Lord of the Dance as he worked my back over for 30 or 45 minutes.
Sergey will be back tomorrow. And I don't have to do yard work today.