Frankly My Dear, I Don’t Give a Damn

My second week in Ireland and I’m standing outside of Trinity College. As I gaze up at the Corinthian columns that line the front facade I think to myself,  my neck really f***ing hurts.

I hurry past the college and take a left to turn onto Suffolk street because its ten to five and I’m not sure where I am going. On my second week in Ireland, I am not on my merry way to visit historical sites; I am instead trying to locate the Body Wise Clinic, the massage and physical therapy place I am scheduled to be at in ten minutes.

I have left my internship in Greystones two hours early today, so that I could make it to this appointment in the hopes that someone here will fix the very bothersome pain in my neck. I’d like to say I injured myself during all of the wild pub touring and neck-craining sight seeing I’ve been doing in Ireland. Unfortunately that would be a lie.

I’m not exactly sure why I woke up in incredible pain this morning, unable to move my neck without eliciting a sharp yelp from my soul.

My best guess for this unpleasant occurrence is due to a culmination of the following:

-New living habits and environment such as: the “bed” I attempt to sleep on each night, the train seats I sit in for an hour to an fro work each day, the computer desk I sit at for hours performing extremely significant photographic endeavors, and finally, the horrible new tendency I have to sit hunched on my bed with my laptop, attempting to communicate with the outside world.

(Skyping hurts kids. Tell your friends.)

Add in the fact that I have returned to my Pre Pilates unmotivated state, in which my wonderful teacher Ann is not here to stop the inevitable slouching of my entire body.

Translation? My back hurts!

(Well actually more my neck today, but that was for Shannon, since she’s the only one who will get this reference.) (Points if you do tho!)

SO I find the office and climb the two sets of narrow stairs to be greeted by the soothing sounds of light chimes. This is where I meet my massage therapist of the day: Keat.
The reason I decided to post about this, other than to fulfill your obvious desire to know everything I am doing in Dublin, besides the actual important Dublin things, IS because I’m SO SICK of therapists. Specifically body and muscle related ones.

They all think that they know how to fix everyone and that everyone else trying to fix people is a crack. (Not like Irish “craic”. Crazy “crack”. A fake. An imposter.)

-Massage therapists think chiropractors are pompous lunatics cracking people left and right;

-Acupuncturists think they are channeling ancient spirits through their work;

-Structural integration(ists?) are REAL WEIRDOS who silently torture you for information you would willing give up in the first five minutes if you knew what they wanted;


-Physical therapists all need to decide on one book of rules and methods to read and follow, because y’all are contradicting and confusing!

If you viewers out there (and I know your not viewers) don’t already know, I have a very extensive history with back pain and all the potential therapies that go with it. So when I walked into the Body Wise clinic and met Keat in his office, well lets just say this wasn’t my first time at the rodeo. So of course, as I list off all the various treatment methods I have undergone, Keat fulfills my expectations by beginning to rag on every other treatment besides MASSAGE. Fortunately, I am ready for this. I am very good at nodding and mmhhmm-ing. (Nothing I say can defend the other treatments, nor do I really want to, because obviously I still had I come here to see this guy, so they’re not winning any medals either.) He continues to assure me that his methods produce results. They always say “results”. What they don’t say is AWESOME RESULTS. Not that I would believe them if they did but come on, can you try to Wow me a little??

Keat continues to use all the fancy scientific names for the muscles and nerves in my body that are unhappy and yelling about it. “And this muscles connects to this muscle and they are hanging out near these nerves and if one of them is unhappy, EVERYBODY UNHAPPY.” (That is my translation for you people, not his. #caleykeepsitreal)

I should really start memorizing the actual muscle names so that I can rattle them off impressively before the therapist gets a chance to. It was all very interesting to me a few years ago, when I was young and naive, but now I’m like yeah yeah ok can you just start massaging my neck cause it kinda hurts…….

So it is now an hour later and I am on the bus back to my apartment, slightly looser, smelling like oils, but still with a painful spot in my neck. He did loosen up my shoulders though! Not the reason I went there for, but SURE. He also used the SPECIAL laser gadget on me that will help loosen my muscles and promote faster cell growth, but No! of course it’s not anything like the electric pulse machine thing that does the same thing at my last chiropractor.. Sorry I mentioned it.

THIS is why people with chronic pain become drug addicts and alcoholics. Because stupid doctors tell them billions of different contradicting things and they just can’t handle it anymore!
Don’t worry people if I become an alcoholic it’ll be because I’m Irish. It’s in my blood.

So for now I need to stop being lazy and start channeling the wacky amazing spirit of my Pilates teacher back in Boston, so that I can stop messing my back up each day. And maybe I’ll start visiting some actual Irish sites and not doctors…

In order to repay Dublin for not visiting any of the sites I passed today on the way to the massage therapist, I believe I must now go to the nearest pub and order a Guinness.

Please accept my apology. Cheers.

Saw this guy on my way home. I obviously went to the wrong doctor.



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s