I've been having some back problems. Really more of an arm problem, but Karl and the physical therapist seem to think it's a pinched nerve in my back. (I will see a doctor on Thursday to verify what the problem is.) So, I've been going to PT the past few days where I have laser therapy, ultrasound therapy, and massage therapy. Yep, I sit in the massage chair and have an amazing massage for about half an hour. All for about $12! You won't get any complaints here!
The past few days, I've been the only one in the office. No complaints here. Mirela and I talk, I get the wonderful therapy, and I am on my way back home. Today, Christmas Eve, it was a zoo in the office! Lots of people were in and out, some getting therapy, some asking questions, some making appointments. This would all normally be fine. Except for one thing - I don't have a shirt on!
I'm sitting in the chair with my chest on the padded section of the chair, so it's not like I'm hanging out all over the place. But, still. I have no shirt on and my bra is unhooked. I know, that's how it has to be to get a massage. And I normally don't have a problem with it. Like I said, I've had massages for years here, and I know the routine! I know there is much less privacy here; that's the way it is in Eastern Europe. My modest self still cringes at times, but I've pretty much learned to deal with it.
Like I said, I was just sitting in the chair, with my face in the "donut" part of the chair with my eyes closed. I'm hearing people go in and out, trying not to let it bother me. All of a sudden, I hear the therapist tell "Filip" to lie down on the table. This is a table about 3 feet from me. I recall this little folding screen set up between me and the table, but I'm still a little unsure. I hear one therapist get him set up with whatever therapy he is having while my therapist finishes with me. She helps me hook my bra back, then I sit up. I look to my right, and there is this young man, probably about 17 years old, lying on the table. I didn't even look over at him long enough to see if he looked over at me. I just quickly grab my shirt and put it back on and left as quickly as I could. There goes the feeling of "I thought I have acclimated to this place!"
I just might need another massage after this....
The past few days, I've been the only one in the office. No complaints here. Mirela and I talk, I get the wonderful therapy, and I am on my way back home. Today, Christmas Eve, it was a zoo in the office! Lots of people were in and out, some getting therapy, some asking questions, some making appointments. This would all normally be fine. Except for one thing - I don't have a shirt on!
I'm sitting in the chair with my chest on the padded section of the chair, so it's not like I'm hanging out all over the place. But, still. I have no shirt on and my bra is unhooked. I know, that's how it has to be to get a massage. And I normally don't have a problem with it. Like I said, I've had massages for years here, and I know the routine! I know there is much less privacy here; that's the way it is in Eastern Europe. My modest self still cringes at times, but I've pretty much learned to deal with it.
Like I said, I was just sitting in the chair, with my face in the "donut" part of the chair with my eyes closed. I'm hearing people go in and out, trying not to let it bother me. All of a sudden, I hear the therapist tell "Filip" to lie down on the table. This is a table about 3 feet from me. I recall this little folding screen set up between me and the table, but I'm still a little unsure. I hear one therapist get him set up with whatever therapy he is having while my therapist finishes with me. She helps me hook my bra back, then I sit up. I look to my right, and there is this young man, probably about 17 years old, lying on the table. I didn't even look over at him long enough to see if he looked over at me. I just quickly grab my shirt and put it back on and left as quickly as I could. There goes the feeling of "I thought I have acclimated to this place!"
I just might need another massage after this....
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