Tuesday, November 07, 2006

Massage

A lesser known fact about me is that I'm a fully trained and qualified aromatherapy and massage therapist, and a few years back I made a pretty good living out of it.
Most of my patients came from a local GP who preferred their patients to get better without the aid of chemicals and so if at all possible, and I'd get a call about once a week from the doctor asking me if I could fit someone in.
One day I got a call saying that the doc had a patient with them in their surgery who was a police officer. Said police officer had been at work, when somebody stuck a gun in his face and told him to 'freeze'.
Freeze he did indeed. His muscles had totally seized up and he was so shaken that his boss had told him to go home from work there and then, and pay a visit to his GP on the way.
Twenty minutes later he was round at mine, and I made up the most relaxing blend of oils possible and got to work trying to unravel the knots from his body.
An hour and a half of massage and a good cry later* he was feeling a lot more relaxed and could move without his back going into spasm, so I advised him to go home and get to bed and hopefully get some sleep. I gave him the remainder of the oil blend for him to use before he left and jotted down my phone number (I was out of my cards that day) in case he needed to come back.
Off he went with his shoulders moving nicely, and as I had no more patients for the day I settled down with a film to watch and a cuppa to share with Pudsey.
A couple of hours later my phone rang. I answered it, and before I had a chance to say anything more than 'hello' a woman on the other end started screaming "Who the fu*k are you, and what the fu*k have you been doing with my husband you slut! You fu*king marriage wrecker, do you know we have two children you cow?"
I managed to say 'Wha...?' before I heard a man's voice shouting "What are you doing? Who the hell are you screaming at?" before the woman started to yell at him too.
I stared at the phone in disbelief trying to figure out who was calling me, and why they seemed convinced I'd broken up a marriage.
More screaming and shouting was heard before the man's voice shouted out "The doctor sent me to her you stupid bint! I was involved in a hold up and the boss told me to go home early because of severe stress and shock!"
The penny dropped.
The police officer was home way earlier than expected, and his wife had found him in their bed smelling of what she thought was perfume, gone through his pockets and found my phone number and name on a scrap of paper, put two and two together and come up with five.
There followed about ten minutes of tears and apologies before I finally got off the phone.
The police officer came back to see me again the next day as funnily enough, he was rather stressed again.
For some strange reason I was feeling stressed after that call too.
I still wonder what she'd thought if my then boyfriend had answered the phone instead of me.

*Him crying, not me.