Find Touch Massage Community Blog

Trade Ya!

lynna_dunn@hotmail.com (Lynna Dunn) — Sun, 08 Nov 2009 02:10:10 PST

I’ve been a fan of trading since I was a kid watching Little House on the Prairie on our rabbit-eared television set. Doc Baker might not have been paid a lot by his patients, but he ate a lot of home-baked goods and probably never had to go to the grocery store. On the other hand, you grow up and realize that money is still quite useful; Doc Baker got way more chickens than pie; and slaughtering, plucking, and cutting up chickens can be rather time-consuming, not to mention horrifying to many urban neighbors.

Still, I like to trade. I like knowing I have something to trade that people want. When I was an English professor, trade was slim. Not many people actually want their grammar corrected, and seldom do they sit down and write a book one can offer to edit. But massage therapy is a different story, and it feels good to work with my hands for some tangible good or service.

The first trade I ever did was for art. I sent that painting back to an old friend in Arkansas, as a gift and as repayment for the $200 that came out of her small budget to help me while I was in massage school, financially reeling from a sudden divorce, and literally wondering if I was going to be able to eat again in the last month before graduation. It was called Rose Garden Princess, and I propped it up and admired it for the few days it took to save the tip money to mail it. Every time the light changed, the painting changed. I was so proud of it and myself.

The most recent trade I did involved a puppy we’ve named Ike. Without trade, we could have never come up with the extra money for a pet right now. We love Ike, even in the pain of potty-training him. He’s sweet and bright, a special little guy who is worth way more to me than the dollar amount on the five or so massage hours I gave for him.

Sometimes I dream a little too big and think of all the things I could get if I had more of me to go around (like perhaps a little maid service!) But I believe that when I think like that, the miracle of trade becomes a burden. So instead, I just try to keep myself mentally open to potential trade relationships; I know that if trade is the answer to a need, the opportunity will come to me.

Massage and Alcohol Abuse

lynna_dunn@hotmail.com (Lynna Dunn) — Sun, 01 Nov 2009 16:08:56 PST

At first, I wasn’t sure that Melinda (not her real name) was drunk. I mean, my eyes, nose and my intuition were sure that she was, but it’s not like the front desk was going to be able to give her a breathalyzer test—though she certainly would have failed had she been forced to “walk the line.” And though I was adamant about the fact that we were not required to treat someone under the influence, for very good reasons, the massage client management was more silently adamant that we not turn anyone away unless that person was some physical threat to the therapist or any other people nearby. But I was a new therapist, working hard to get my feet under me, and so I knuckled under more easily than I might normally have.

On the other hand, maybe that wasn’t it at all. Or certainly not all of it. Because, you know, no matter how tight I held to the boundaries, she reminded me of my mother. Little, fine-boned, too skinny. Probably drinking more than she was eating most days. Bitter, yet an odd sort of innocent, trusting me. Physical and emotional pain just seeping out of her along with silent tears that seemed to flow sometimes in rhythm with the massage that was like balm for her. She was so much happier, so much clearer after a massage. And I realized in holding the boundary that my child self took a lot of comfort in being able to provide this relief for Melinda. I wasn’t a helpless kid anymore, trying to respond to needs I couldn’t possibly meet or breaking down and hiding in my room in an attempt to keep my own spirit from being drained away as well.

Not to say that I completely ignored my role, my responsibilities, or the drinking itself. On the one day she tripped and almost fell into the arms of me and one of the front desk staff, I took her to my room and asked her if she’d been drinking. She said she had had a few glasses of wine, because it was her birthday, but that’s all. I told her I hoped she wouldn’t take it wrong, but massage wasn’t good for someone who had been drinking, and all I could give her was a very light Swedish. She accepted that without argument as well as my suggestion that perhaps her husband could drive her home.

After a while though, knowing massage would not be able to help Melinda if she did not address her addiction, I went to a friend of mine who was a long-time recovered alcoholic, told her the story (sans names), and asked what she thought I should do. My friend had discovered in her first years of sobriety that lack of alcohol had allowed her body to heal and made her pain less. My friend suggested I share her own story (sans names) with Melinda so that Melinda would see the benefits of getting help in a non-threatening way. Ironically, though, on the eve of being ready to do that, I switched jobs and did not see Melinda again.

In a way, I was relieved. Melinda’s drinking brought up some very bad memories for me, not to mention putting me in an ethically sticky spot in regard to my job. In a way, I was grateful. I believe I was able to do massage for Melinda in a way that not everyone could because I understood her so completely in some ways. And in a way I was sad. Because relieving pain, giving people hope that pain does not have to be a constant in their lives, is why I went back to school at 36 to be a massage therapist. And I was also sad because I believe that pain will always exist where active alcoholism is a factor. I’m not sure I did exactly the right thing in the way I handled Melinda, or that I would handle the same type of situation the same way if it happened again; all I can say is that I certainly tried, and tried with the best intentions I could muster.

Another Kind of Business, Not Massage

noreply@blogger.com (Sue Peterson) — Wed, 28 Oct 2009 11:29:00 PDT

Well, California can once again be accused of being different and difficult. It’s a land of fruits and nuts, yurts and yogurt, movie stars and serial killers. And one of the oddest hybrid massage licensing laws ever.

First, after a long-fought battle mostly amongst ourselves, the California licensing law isn’t a license, it’s a voluntary certification designation. And required education hours are set quite low, at 250 and 500, in deference to our economy and our quaint three-states-in-one political climate.

In Southern California where I practice many cities require close to 1,000 hours for licensing, and some require the higher hours plus national examinations. Further still, some require all that and add on their own exam and a long, expensive application process. Once obtained, the licenses have all kinds of interesting practice restrictions from “no glutes” (try skipping those on people with low back pain) to specifying the wattage of room lighting (Sixty watts can feel like a night baseball game to someone with a migraine.)

As you may suspect, the Southern California cities are trying to regulate another kind of business, not massage, that involves touching clients.

Up north in the other California, education minimums are less arduous, and in some cases not required. Our northern folks, much more civilized that they are, feel quite happy with 100 hours or two for good if basic rub. The great in-between, the valley where the fruits and nuts are grown alongside with the politicians, is a hop-scotch of regulations.

When I went to the Long Beach police station get a license in 1996, I had to hold up a chalkboard sign in front of me with my name and application number while a policeman took my pictures, front and side. I love the idea that we are finally getting away from city-by-city funhouse of regulations.Yip Yip Hooray.

But at the same time I must say that the California certification agency, which began taking applications in August, is a little too easy on education. Figure a good massage therapist needs to know more than Swedish and basic contraindications. And long haul in mind, shouldn’t it take a few months of teachers yelling in your ear to learn proper body mechanics? (OK. It did me. My mechanics are not perfect, but I’ve been massaging for almost 15 years, thanks to a deafening stream of Portuguese exclamations.)

Increasing hours, of course, would put a crimp in the big spas and resorts, who try to juggle big overheads by keeping labor costs low. Keeping required hours down helps ensure a good labor pool of recent graduates for the big players. Unfortunately, requiring less education also makes it easier for those in another kind of business, not massage, to operate.

I would like to think of massage as more of a therapeutic profession-in-the-making, heading say, for the education level of a vocational nurse as opposed to a certified nursing assistant. I say that, of course, knowing I have the hours already and such a requirement would force a lot of experienced therapists who haven’t taken certified hours back to the classroom.

As the California Massage Therapy Council bravely tries to herd all of us cats, I can say that as diverse as Californians are, at least we are on the brink of a high hill. Soon I can work wearing a V-neck scrub shirt without being in violation of my city’s cleavage regulation.

Pandora: Musical Godsend

lynna_dunn@hotmail.com (Lynna Dunn) — Thu, 22 Oct 2009 17:38:49 PDT

It seems you never realize how important music is in your massage life until it stops playing. At my first job, a large massage business, we had the typical piped-in stereotypical massage music, which we often made fun of. I personally referred to it as New-Age-Neil-Diamond-Meets-Elevator music. It was somewhat relaxing, yet often repetitive. At least once a day, we had to listen to a track one therapist called the #$%^@#! song. “I’m sure whatever that woman is saying is wonderful and peaceful and loving in whatever language that is,” she said, “but it still sounds like she’s saying #$%^@#! over and over.” And truly, it did, and after that, I could never hear it again during a session without fighting back a snort of laughter.

Finally the therapists got together with personal contributions to try and improve the quality of the music, but we ran into some problems there as well. For one thing, some of my favorites, like the soundtracks to Snow Falling on Cedars and Pan’s Labyrinth made one of our younger therapists “feel like [she] was having nightmares,” and following up those pieces with some of the hula music another therapist brought in made ME feel like I was having nightmares.

But, I found out when I switched jobs, that poor music is better than none. In the chiropractic clinic where I worked, I was provided with a broken-down old boom-box that only worked, say, one-third of the time, and if anything will give you nightmares, it’s a CD-skipping version of O Mio Babbino Caro. Yuck.

Enter Pandora Radio. I have fallen in love with it. I access Pandora through my I-Phone and set up all sorts of cool channels for free. I have Eccodek Radio, Romantic Opera Radio, the guy-who-wrote-the-soundtrack-for-Snow Falling on Cedars Radio, George Winston Radio, etc. I select one of my stations, plug my I-Phone into a small set of portable speakers, and presto! I can listen to people singing odd songs I actually like, none of which sound like #$%^@#! If you haven’t tried Pandora, you should. And you’ll enjoy it outside massage as well: I like my Stayin’ Alive Radio for cooking. If you haven’t stirred, chopped, and sautéed to the Bee Gees, well you just haven’t lived.

Views on Flu

lynna_dunn@hotmail.com (Lynna Dunn) — Wed, 21 Oct 2009 13:14:07 PDT

My blogging this week was thrown for a loop when I unexpectedly came down with a bug. No, not a cold or the flu. A computer bug. A Trojan virus to be exact. I was thrilled beyond imagination (which is to say the exact opposite).

As we roll on toward November, no one is exactly thrilled about those cold and flu bugs either. I have a client I see regularly who almost two months ago was already entering a state of high anxiety about flu season. After asking me an unusual amount of questions about the flu, flu shots, and how I felt about flu shots, I asked her if she was concerned about coming to me for massage if I did not have a flu shot. She said yes, a little embarrassed, and I told her that I would be happy to wear a mask during our massages, but I was not going to get a flu shot, simply because the few times that I have, I've developed full-blown flu.

I'm a bit of a short-term pragmatist, then, when it comes to my stance on flu shots. My father, who was a doctor, held the same view, for the same reasons. Like him, my decision is based on this reasoning: "I'm not on salary, I don't have vacation or sick days, and if I get the flu, I will not only be miserable and bored, I will lose income, I will not be available to help my patients, and I simply don't have time for that." I realize from talking to other people though, especially in this area, that there are people who boycott flu shots and other types of immunizations, because they believe that the shots do more damage to the body than even the expected exposure to certain parts of the flu virus.

But no matter what my choices and why I make them, I am glad my client talked to me instead of just avoiding the massage clinic during flu season in an effort to avoid any potential flu exposure. She definitely planned on getting a flu shot, and I definitely planned on not getting a flu shot, but there was a solution we could both live with that still allows her to get the therapeutic massage work she needs. I wish my computer bug had such a painless cure!

Tough Sheets Update

noreply@blogger.com (Sue Peterson) — Wed, 21 Oct 2009 13:15:46 PDT

Well, the experiment with Bamboo and cotton yarn sheets, I am happy to report, is going quite well.

Earlier I wrote about how much I loved the light, silky yet warm feel of 100-percent bamboo yarn sheets, and how my clients appreciated them as well. Then, alas, after a few washings the yarn developed little pinholes and I had to retire them. Also, the bottom sheets were too tight for my double-stuff massage table. Luckily, I had only bought four sets, all on sale.

Now, several weeks after purchasing one set of 50/50 bamboo and cotton yarn sheets, I am pleased to report they are surviving the washing machine. The blend sheets have an advantage over all-cottons because they are more naturally anti-microbial. They also fit a regular or double-stuff table much better than my original selection.

They don’t have as much of the silky feeling of 100 percent bamboo, but they do hold up tons better than the all-bamboo sheets.

Blended sheets also have a hidden benefit for us therapists in private practice. You can fit twice as many sheet sets in a washer than with regular flannel massage sheets. Compared to twin sheet flannels I occasionally use, they take up a LOT LESS room in the wash. Anytime I can reduce the number of laundry loads and time spent folding is great news!

The clients, well, they aren’t as impressed with the blend. The effervescent endorsements I got for the all-bamboo sheets have yielded to simple “yeah, they are OK” type comments. I am waiting for the industry to catch up with us in the massage business and come out with a different weave or higher thread count so I can use 100-percent bamboo once again….

Find Touch Service Update Streamlines Communications, introduces Massage Supplies Store!

noreply@blogger.com (Alex) — Wed, 14 Oct 2009 12:11:51 PDT

Yesterday we updated the Find Touch website, introducing some new features that make using the Find Touch service even more convenient! Here's what's new..

New Convenient Messaging and Mailbox
When applying for work opportunities, therapists now have the ability to include a cover letter and attachments directly with their job application, eliminating the need to send a separate email. Find Touch has also introduced archived messaging. When you send email from within Find Touch, your communications are now stored in your Mailbox for easy reference in the future. Employers and Therapists can now easily review any communications they have sent or received and track whole message threads.

New Find Touch Store
We are focused on serving the Massage Therapy community and many of you have written to thank us for the friendly and easy-to-use service. In order to bring additional value and convenience to members of our community, Find Touch has partnered with Amazon.com to launch the new Find Touch store where you can find many of the most popular massage essentials - supplies, accessories and equipment - in one place, at a great price. If there is something you do not see in our store that you think should be included, please let us know!

Enhanced Search Capabilities for Employers
As an Employer, you can now use the Find Pros page to search for candidates by name as well as other criteria that have been available in the past. This allows you to quickly locate someone you might have partial information about and are interested in contacting. We have also streamlined the search screen to help you find therapists that practice any of the modalities you pick.

We hope you enjoy the new enhancement in Find Touch and encourage you to continue sharing your questions and feature requests. Your feedback is what drives our continuous improvement!

States of Undress

lynna_dunn@hotmail.com (Lynna Dunn) — Sun, 11 Oct 2009 14:11:44 PDT

A regular client of mine who knows I blog for Find Touch told me one time that she thought I should write about undressing for massage from the client's point of view. Like many clients, she was sometimes confused as to what was expected of her in terms of getting on the table, and she felt that some therapists were oblivious to this confusion.

Well, that's probably true in some respects. When massage is your life, and you do several a day, you sometimes forget that clients aren't as "in the know" as you are. In terms of getting undressed, I usually choose to err on the side of caution and say something like " . . . so clothes off, leave your underwear on if that's more comfortable for you, and lie face down in the cradle, covered up like you're in bed." Sometimes I say "panties" instead of "underwear" when speaking to women because I have had clients leave on bras and girdles, which I personally feel prevents me from giving them a real massage.

I try to be clear on states of undress so that hopefully all clients will be comfortable in the knowledge that they are doing "the right thing." When they are comfortable, they are more relaxed. And if they "do the right thing" the first time, I don't have to carefully rescue the situation in order to keep them relaxed. For example, even with good instructions, I have come into rooms to find clients naked and uncovered on the table; clients wearing so much underwear I can't reach tissue; clients wearing robes and laying on top of the blankets; etc. In these situations, I strive to avoid embarrassing the client by calmly saying things like, "I'm just going to put this sheet over you so you stay warm" or "I'll leave and let you get under the covers without the robe; that way I can get into more of your tissue."

Of course, after I've seen a client for several sessions, I don't have to be so vigilant. But for new clients I always am. I remember a couple's massage I was part of when the other therapist asked his client a few questions, then whisked out the room, leaving me alone with them. "What am I supposed to do?" his client asked me, panicky. She had never had a massage, and had told her therapist, but he had completely forgotten to address the subject of undressing. I explained it to her, not wanting her to lose any of the benefits of the session due to lying there thinking, "Should I have left this on? Is he thinking I'm strange because I left my underwear on? Or did I take off too much? " I certainly wouldn't want to be in that position myself; so I try to make the parameters of undressing for massage very clear for my clients (and try to be very calm and nonchalant when they misunderstand).

Oh, By the Way...

lynna_dunn@hotmail.com (Lynna Dunn) — Wed, 21 Oct 2009 13:19:40 PDT

I once had a client - whom I’ll call Bob - who for several years had experienced a great deal of pain in the left upper torso. In the two weeks before his first massage, he had awakened during the night to such extreme left chest pain, that his wife took him to the emergency room because he was sure he was having a heart attack. The emergency room doctors found absolutely nothing wrong with his heart and sent him home largely frustrated with some painkillers/muscle relaxers.

When Bob came in to see me, I did an initial intake as per usual, but his paperwork didn’t reveal anything particularly. It was when I got him on the table and started examining the area with my hands that I immediately knew that a big key to his pain seemed to be adhesion and perhaps internal scar tissue in the left lateral abdominal area all the way up into both pec major and pec minor, etc. When I told him this, he told me he’d had a violent injury as a child that had resulted in a broken collarbone, etc., and that additionally, a large part of his colon had been removed on that side. “Forgot to mention it,” he said. “Think that could have something to do with it?” Hmmm. Probably.

Well, after several visits, we had Bob nearly pain-free. But I remember this as one of my favorite “Oh, by the way” moments. It wasn’t the first or last time I had someone on the table when some sort of late revelation provided a key to a issue or perhaps a cause for concern (Oh by the way, I fell directly on my head last month . . . think that could have something to do with my dizziness and neck pain?) And it seems as if I am not alone in this, as I’ve heard fellow therapists share quite a few unusual such moments. I just find myself hoping I never find myself halfway through a session when I client says something like, “Oh by the way, did I tell you I have ringworm?” :-)

Furling for dollars

noreply@blogger.com (Sue Peterson) — Wed, 30 Sep 2009 09:51:00 PDT

Ok, I’ve been doing this massage therapy thing for a while. But two weeks ago I thought I was going to have to hire a Sign-Twirler.

Darn, it was slow. Everybody was busy, out of town, broke or otherwise engaged. I know how to handle these things. I’ve been around. But I must say one can have a crisis or two when it seems like you are playing a part in that Virgin commercial: “Where Is Everyone?”

It happens, I know, to all of us in massage from spas to clinics to house call-only folks. It’s just you don’t get used to it. Especially when you think you are doing all the things that you know pay off in a full book and a chunky paycheck.

So was I waving like a blade of grass in the gentle breeze of life? Did I use the unexpected extra time to finish that c.e.u. course or secret shop the competition?

No. I was getting uptight. Tense enough to think about what would happen to me if I had to get a real job. Oh, no. I used to have a real job. I had enough of them between junior high school and age 35 that I never want to have another one again. Seriously. Massage beats standing in an orange vest with “May I Help You” in big white letters on your back.

Wait a minute, I said to myself in the vast bowling alley of my office. Insecure is good. Insecure works. Insecure can motivate. How can I use this energy to focus? I whipped through the book. Was I re-booking every client? Whom had I forgotten? Who forgot their calendar and dropped off the radar? Am I running on time? Are people getting called back right away? Am I asking clients to refer people? Stinky breath? Dust bunnies in the therapy room?

I audited myself, a fool’s errand, yes, but it does work.

The next week the books had revived, the tundra came back to life. I was tired enough by Wednesday to think about how I could spread some appointments out a little more. The tent revival I had with myself had worked.

It is good to have a little edge here and there to make sure you are not blaming the economy for your slack-jaw ways... Now to schedule a massage for myself...

Winter Is Coming: Time for a Sunshine Supplement

lynna_dunn@hotmail.com (Lynna Dunn) — Wed, 21 Oct 2009 13:44:22 PDT

Winter is coming . . . I can feel it in the air. I didn’t grow up in Seattle, and frankly I never feared winter until I lived here. Arkansas and Louisiana get cold, but they can still be sunny, which is largely not true in Seattle. And though I thought I was prepared for the gray and rain when I moved here, I found I was not. I came to almost think of the winter as a living thing, the way you learn to see heat in the South or wind in the West: and I hated it because I literally felt my mood drop like a stone down a well whenever the sun said goodbye for the season.

The good news is, I’ve found a lot of help in several sources, including vitamin D. I had my vitamin D levels checked for the first time in Seattle, and found that they were through the floor. I was able to work closely with a nutritionist and use liquid vitamin D to get my levels back to normal. I feel better, I don’t fear winter so much, and I don’t drive family and friends crazy, running around turning on all the lights and mumbling, “It’s too dark in here . . . it’s just too dark in here!”

One thing I always try keep in mind as a massage practitioner is that if I’m not at my best for myself, I can’t be at my best for my clients. Sometimes that means a scented bath, an extra massage, a dinner of comfort food; or in this season, vitamin D.

Tools of the Trade: Tiger Balm and Tennis Balls

lynna_dunn@hotmail.com (Lynna Dunn) — Sat, 19 Sep 2009 22:43:39 PDT

At home, I like to say, “If you can’t do it with duct tape, WD-40, or Tiger Balm, you probably can’t do it at all.” But in the massage room, my favorite choices are Tiger Balm and tennis balls. Every massage practitioner seems to have at least a couple of favorite tools, and these are mine, especially as tools I can recommend for home use.

I tend to prefer Tiger Balm as a type of liniment or rub for several reasons. One, it’s easy to find at any drugstore or pharmacy, and even though it comes in almost a lip-gloss sized container, a little bit goes a long way. Two, it isn’t too hot or too cold in terms of sensation. It’s warm enough to fake the muscles out a little and make them think they’re warmer and more relaxed than they actually might me, helping break the pain cycle, in my opinion. Also, I don’t like shivering, and really cold rubs have always driven me nuts. In my experience, shivering clients tense up all over again, which is kind of a bummer. And finally, I like the smell . . . I do! Given the strong clove-like smell, Tiger Balm tends to be like anchovy pizza: you either love it or hate it. I have several Tiger Balm-loving clients now with spouses and partners that are happy about the pain relief, but not so happy about the smell of it :-)

As to tennis balls, they are also cheap and easy to find, and if you can’t find a store with a sports section, you can always check the pet section of most grocery stores. When I had little dogs, I used half-sized tennis balls, and spent many amusing hours lying on them for tissue release while my dogs attempted to dig them out from under me. Tennis balls are light and portable and so great for my clients who travel, especially those with low back and hip pain who spend a lot of time sitting in those absurdly tiny airline seats. I highly recommend them to clients who respond well to trigger point work, and it’s easy to teach a down-and-dirty kind of trigger point work just by introducing the tennis ball.

Please feel free to add to this blog by commenting on your own favorite tools. It’s always interesting to see what other people are using and why!

Helping the Wounded Warrior

noreply@blogger.com (Sue Peterson) — Wed, 16 Sep 2009 09:45:00 PDT

I know we are supposed to be at war, but where, really does one see any signs of the effort? No rations, bonds, enlistment drives or things our parents knew well. The war is distant, a story on the news page. A sad obit inside the local news, a picture of someone looking too young to die.

Those off-in- the-distance wars are the only types I know. What I do see are the survivors, the people who return home to the stillness of our suburban streets with a little baggage from Baghdad.

In my massage practice, I have done massages with veterans of World War I, II, Korea, Vietnam, The Gulf War, the Bosnian conflict, and now Afghanistan and Iraq. Vets don’t talk much about their times in war areas, but I do get slips of information here and there to explain some of the souvenirs.

The dark, black blotch on one fellow’s forearm, slowly moving up to the surface, 62 years after Normandy, was shrapnel from a mortar shell.

The scars you can see, however, seem to be more than outnumbered by the scars on veteran’s nervous systems. Back in the USA, vets have told me they freeze when they hear the nightly fireworks at Disneyland. When a plastic bag floats across the freeway lanes, a vet told me he clenches the steering wheel thinking it might be a home-made bomb. One vet told me, he didn’t want a parade or a medal. He just wanted to be able to sleep through the night.

It’s been a long-standing and continuing scandal that soft-tissue injuries and post-war trauma syndromes aren’t given any respect in our country. Such wimps as the British Empire have long recognized and treated shell-shock syndromes with massages, rest and other therapies. The injuries are just as real as the shrapnel from a mortar shell.

In my little massage practice, I try to help. I work with altering the pain cycles, the hyper-vigilance and the rumination arcs that keep veterans awake at night.

Painfully, I see vets now trying to piece themselves together in between tours in Iraq. There is no getting out of the service if you are a reservist and know how to do something, like fly a plane or perform surgery. If you look okay, you can still shoot a gun, you get sent back.

I wish I had even one answer to all the world’s big problems, but I do have a little time, and a little patience, and a little understanding of how the body reacts to constant, powerless stress. That is at least a little help to people who have already given so much for their country.

The Fragrant Mind

lynna_dunn@hotmail.com (Lynna Dunn) — Sun, 01 Nov 2009 20:55:15 PST

The Fragrant Mind: Aromatherapy for Personality, Mind, Mood, and Emotion by Valerie Ann Worwood is one of the most well-written and well-rounded texts on the subject that I have ever seen. Worwood has been an aromatherapist for over twenty years and is quite a figure in her field: this is the sort of lady presidents and prime ministers call on when those big red buttons are causing anxiety attacks. Though she has written several books on essential oils and their uses in every imaginable context, this one, I think, is most useful to massage practitioners because it addresses the effect of essential oils on the mind, which in turn, affects the body. And the physical pains that we often deal with in massage are often inextricable from clients’ mental and emotional states.

I became more than a little interested in aromatherapy for massage when I first gave a lavender massage for a tension headache, and it not only helped the client, it lightened my whole day. Then I began to wonder about my own favorite scents, even the smell of things that I consider utilitarian, like Tiger Balm. Why do I love Tiger Balm? After reading The Fragrant Mind, I wonder if it’s the smell of clove, historically connected to soothing pain. In any case, this book is proving to be one of the best purchases I have ever made. It is scientific and thorough, but also readable and practical.* I can see using it as a reference text in both my career and personal life for decades to come.

Like many texts on essentials oils, The Fragrant Mind gives notes on preparing and creating oils, lotions, perfumes, etc. and then formulas for their use in specific negative conditions (addiction, depression, panic attacks). However, it also includes: (1) formulas for creating positive states (contentment, joy, focus); (2) a personality typing of each major essential oil; and (3) the division of people into nine different personality types within the context of essential oils (florals, fruities, herbies, leafies, resinies, rooties, seedies, spicies, woodies).

Determining my own personality type was a bit difficult. After some hours of thinking, I narrowed it down to three of the types, then handed the book to my boyfriend. It took him two minutes to announce “You’re a fruitie.” “How did you decide?” I asked. “Easy,” he said. “It was the only one of the three that said “dislikes authority.” Hmmmm. Point made. Though I could argue that I don’t dislike authority, what I dislike is authority dosed with stupidity. On the other hand, maybe I just need to look up that formula for peacefulness :-) One way or another, it won’t be wasted, either at home or during massage sessions.

*Online retailers such as Amazon allow you to browse through this book’s table of contents before you buy it and make it easy for you to purchase a good used copy, as I did.

Cacography and Other Points in Stinky Communication

lynna_dunn@hotmail.com (Lynna Dunn) — Sat, 05 Sep 2009 20:10:31 PDT

A friend of mine who subscribes to Wordsmith.org recently sent me a word-of-the-day that I knew I wanted to blog about: cacography. Cacography (kuh-KOG-ruh-fee) is both simply defined as “bad handwriting” and “incorrect spelling.” The site summary adds an explanation of this word’s history/derivation: “From caco- (bad), from Greek kakos (bad) + -graphy (writing). Caco is ultimately from the Indo-European root kakka-/kaka- (to defecate) which also gave us poppycock, cacophony, and cucking stool.”

It might seem surprising that I’m blogging about bad spelling in a massage context given that we’re not exactly in the rooms working crossword puzzles. But good spelling, and to expand the topic, good grammar are both helpful and necessary in ALL professional fields for various reasons (credibility and clarity to name just two.) And I’m not referring to charting, which is done many times on-the-fly with a bad pen; with charting, you try to do the best you can in the most legible way possible. But most professional communication in massage (e.g. email, newsletters, etc.) involves a computer and a spell-check and perhaps even Internet access to further spelling/grammatical resources. So even if you are one of those people who blame teachers for some people’s inability to learn how to use a comma after ten or so years of repeating and practicing the concept in public school, you can still see that software helps to work around this deficiency.

When I was teaching College English, a student once complained to me that he didn’t see why he was graded for grammar and spelling when he was taking a class on literature. WELL, DUH. That’s one of those moments as an English teacher when you slip outside to take deep breaths and think about trees or something or go raving insane in front of 24 freshmen. However, that student’s attitude is shared by many, and I have even met them in the massage business. I have seen people who routinely produced writing for public consumption that was laughably bad. And I do mean that: when they weren’t wincing, various members of the intended audience were laughing, which is not a good thing. Because truthfully, credibility in authority has to involve literacy . . . at least in this culture. And good communication implies that we are not laughing (or crying) and saying “what the heck does that MEAN?”

No, massage therapists and the non-therapists working with us aren’t professional writers, and our/their writing does not have to be perfect. But we are all professionals, and should, I believe, at the very least shoot for writing that is clean and clear and doesn’t read like a bunch of . . . poppycock.

Bamboo Sheets, No Pinholes, Please

noreply@blogger.com (Sue Peterson) — Tue, 13 Oct 2009 11:28:28 PDT

Any therapist has to love sheets that feel like silk, breathe so they are not too hot, not too cold, happily opaque and are so light it takes 10 sets to fill a washing machine. Yes, they are wonderful. A therapist’s sheet dream.

I purchased my first four sets of bamboo sheets recently and fell in awe. These are the massage sheets I always wanted. Finally, a set that didn’t weigh too much, didn’t wrinkle too much and did the job! The added green factors – renewable resource, less damaging to farmsoils and naturally anti-microbial are a huge plus!

And I got a deal. Normally about $50 for a set including bottom sheet, top sheet and face cover, I found some on clearance for half that. Awesome. Later, I would find out why they were on clearance.

But the moment I took them out of the package, the honeymoon began. Clients loved them. Silky, lightweight, warming but not too heavy, the utmost everything one would want upon a massage table. As much as clients love flannels, these sheets starting getting requests!

Then, came the rub. After two, maybe three washings, tiny little pinholes popped out of the fabric. Enough to make me wonder if I had dropped a safety pin in the wash. I started flipping sheets one end to the other, trying to avoid the little pinholes revealing the table warmer pad underneath. Clients tend to be picky about details, figuring that the devil is in them. If a therapist has pinhole sheets, what else is not worth caring about? Washing hands?

I sighed, a long deep, zen-breath sigh. These little darlings were way too fragile for my practice. I have some flannel sheets that have lasted more than 5 years – I keep them in the back of the linen closet because the elastic is gone, but I can use them without fear if I run out of the newer ones. Sturdy and very comfy, flannels are the bomb.

These 100-percent bamboo sheets were headed for the recycle bin. I used a few of them for quick sports massages at the Orange County AIDS Walk, where folks didn’t seem to mind, but after that the bamboo sheets were retired.

Yet, I would love to get them back. Have any therapists tried bamboo blends? Different thread counts? Found a solution to the pinholes? Please let me know!

Figure bamboo is here to stay, despite its eccentricities. Some new tastes are too hard to give up.

The "A" in SOAP: Charting Goals for Client Progress

lynna_dunn@hotmail.com (Lynna Dunn) — Wed, 02 Sep 2009 16:37:29 PDT

In my opinion, the "A" in SOAP charting is the most difficult section to address. As massage practitioners, we generally use this section for client goals, particularly when an insurance claim is involved. Goals are supposed to be SMART (specific, measurable, attainable, relevant, and time-bound); they should be based on ADLs (activities of daily living); and there should be two types of goals, short term goals (STGs) and long term goals (LTGs).

The problem I most run into is setting goals that are both SMART and based on ADLs. Why? Because many of my clients claim not to be restricted in activities of daily living: they are simply working on through the pain, and they claim there is nothing they really cannot do. In Hands Heal, Diana Thompson suggests asking the client about sleep patterns because even if they are not seeing restrictions in ADLs, people in pain are often suffering sleep problems/deficiencies. So, when a client does have a sleep problem, this can become the foundation of the goals if nothing else can be pinpointed. However, many clients have pain, but no trouble sleeping, so this option is out for them.

It is extremely tempting, then, to fall back on pain levels as the basis of the goals. For example, “The client will have no more than 4/10 pain after six massages.” I was taught, however, that this is a no-no because pain levels are subjective and hence not truly specific or measurable, and therefore not SMART (ACK!) It’s frustrating, though, because if there is one thing the client is sure of, it’s how much pain he is in at any one time.

I know that all of us want to handle SOAP goals professionally, particularly in cases where client care depends on the insurance company continuing to pay for services. What I would like readers to do is share successful methods of forming SMART goals for massage clients. I know that many of us would be eternally grateful for any tips and advice on this issue!

The Other F-Word

lynna_dunn@hotmail.com (Lynna Dunn) — Wed, 21 Oct 2009 17:28:57 PDT

As I was leaving a massage room the other day, I almost literally ran into one of my favorite coworkers who had stopped short in the middle of the hallway. She looked both startled and confused. “What’s the matter?” I asked, concerned. She blinked at me, then burst out: “I farted! Should I say something?” Then she giggled . . . a little madly, I thought. “Uh, well,” I said, realizing she was expecting an answer, “as you know, in the South, ladies don’t . . . do that. Or at least they pretend they don’t. So if they do, they act like they didn’t and basically don’t call attention to it at all. Does that make sense?” She thought about that. “Okay,” she said, and went on her way.

A few days later, the same therapist and I were in a workshop. The teacher asked if anyone had any general questions before we began. My friend held her hand up. “Yes?” the teacher asked. “What do you do if someone farts?” my friend asked. The teacher looked at her blankly, and I put my head in my hands. “I’m not sure I understood the question,” the teacher replied. “If you mean, what would I say, I guess it would depend on the client. I might ignore it, or I might say ‘that was a good release.’ In any case, it’s a natural thing.” “I know,” my friend replied. “I just want to know what to do.”

I’ve been thinking about this question, and it causes me to realize just how fastidious I am in some ways. I can’t really even say “fart,” and I can barely even write the word down. In spite of the fact that ladies like my mother didn’t fart (of course) she still taught me to say “pass gas” so that I could have words to describe something that lesser humans might do. And no matter how many times they told us in massage school to expect lots of farting, I can face it, but I can’t say it. I may be a professional, but I almost feel that if I acknowledged a fart and used the f-word to describe it, 2700 miles away, my poor mother would faint. So I guess I’ll let my friend be the brave one for now . . . and keep on being lady-like!*

*(meaning, in this case, graciously and concertedly clueless).

Stand Up Straight!

lynna_dunn@hotmail.com (Lynna Dunn) — Sat, 15 Aug 2009 20:11:40 PDT

Although my grandmother loved me very much, it didn’t stop her from terrorizing me about my posture. Perhaps concern for me drove her to use fear as a means of encouragement. “Stand up straight!” she’d screech, appearing out of nowhere and smacking me between the shoulder blades. “Be proud you’re tall.” And then she’d suck up straight herself to demonstrate to me how I should do it. Problem was, I wasn’t proud, I was mortified. I was not happy about being about a foot taller than the other kids (and ALL of the boys) and having red hair to boot. I did not want to stand out, and so I slumped. Slumping became a habit, and to this day, I still have to consciously self-correct my posture. And while pride/shame are no longer issues, the fact that I am no longer just tall, but busty as well, has made me paranoid that if I drop my shoulders back and put my chest out, someone might inadvertently lose an eye . . . sigh. So when it comes to my posture, I just do the best I can and call it a day.

I have many clients who are horribly self-critical about their posture. They deride themselves constantly, calling themselves “lazy” and indicating that they are “failures.” I like to point out to them that there are multiple reasons for “poor posture,” some of which are difficult to control (unreleased pecs pulling the body forward, gravity like a huge hand on the back of the head). What most concerns me is that I believe the body listens and absorbs negative self-talk. I would much rather have them say, “Wow, body, you had a terribly stressful day, and yes, you got slumpy, but now let’s take care of you with a massage and a good meal to help you stand up a little straighter.” I would rather have them explore dance, or massage, or chiropractic adjustment to improve their structural health rather than have them slumping further forward in a bad-posture-is-ugly-and-immoral funk.

My grandmother, who has suffered from osteoporosis for many years, is now shrunken and bent. It makes me sad to hear her criticize this “failing” and watch her try to suck herself up into a position she can no longer even remotely achieve. We weren’t born with books balanced on our heads, and we won’t die that way either. So while “good” posture and structural health are important, I tend to lean toward a “do the best you can” view rather than having people give up on their health or having them hate themselves for not matching the illustrations for optimal bodies in anatomy books.

The Massage Store

noreply@blogger.com (Sue Peterson) — Sat, 15 Aug 2009 09:44:54 PDT

The store, which had been a gathering place for massage therapists, was going out and under. The shelves were half-bare and the phone had been cut off for a week. No more job board, no more bumping into friends, trying out CD's or talking shop. The Orange County Bodywork Emporium in Costa Mesa would soon be no more.

They never carried any oils I liked, but I had bought the odd emergency bottle of oil there. They had been there for emergency chair rentals, quick re-stocks of linens or replacing broken face cradles. I enjoyed looking at the odd and curious collections of self-massage items that would come and go.

In this age, we have a good half-dozen online massage supply stores and lots of ways to connect with emails and Facebook and tweets. Yet I still like the smell of oils and the feel of sheets. I’d picked up my second and third and fourth tables there, after carefully examining the workmanship and warranties. I liked the manager's way of announcing "And the Governor’s share" when he added on the tax. The store sponsored ads in our little newsletters, sponsored Touch Foundation volunteer and public service programs. The managers even went out to classes to show people how to lift a packed table without developing lumbago.

But all this is a remembrance of things past. The stores we order from today are online warehouse-style places 20 states away. Even with shipping the prices are great and if you know what you are ordering, the experience is easy. No doubt the online thing, just like this blog, is a far more efficient way to communicate and educate.

Still, I miss the little store on Newport Ave., with its block-letter sign dwarfed by the furniture place next store "Gen X" and the sandals place on the other side.

A sign of the times, eh? It's not like massage folks will hang out at a bar somewhere – well, maybe a juice shop. I’ll have a wheat-grass. Straight up.

Beautifully Useless

lynna_dunn@hotmail.com (Lynna Dunn) — Fri, 14 Aug 2009 10:39:50 PDT

Sometimes we find that our brains just won’t stop working, particularly during times of stress. Images of things we wished we had or hadn’t done and images of all the things we have to get done keep playing and re-playing in our heads: many times accompanied by distracting and disturbing emotions. Sometimes this even happens when preparing to give a massage or even during a session. And it can be hard to clear our minds and return our very necessary good, healing intentions to the task at hand.

I read a wonderful book by Lois McMaster Bujold once, called The Sharing Knife. In one of my favorite scenes, a character named Dag is consoling the much younger runaway Fawn just after she suffers a sudden miscarriage and is trying to process a staggering kind of emotional loss previously unknown to her. “Think of something beautifully useless,” he tells her, recounting his own story of floating on a lake staring at water lilies when he was young. “There are a lot of senseless things in the world, but not all of them are sorrows. Sometimes—I find—it helps to remember the other kind.” When Dag finishes his story, he adds, “Later, in some very dry places, the memory of that hour was enough to go on with.”

I love the whole idea of something beautifully useless. I have my own versions of Dag’s water lilies. A pink rose in a blue vase, for instance. As a tiny child, there was a single rose bush growing in the courtyard of our rented house. And my mother would let me take the scissors and cut just one pink rose to put in a blue glass bud-vase left to her by her grandmother. The memory for me is pure joy. I was too young to attach any more emotion to it than that: just the appreciation of a perfect pink rose in a glowing blue glass vase. When I call such an image to mind, even if I can only hold it and nothing else for a few minutes, I find myself more relaxed, more rested, more centered, and I can return to my massage or other tasks with renewed presence.

The Dandelion: Magical, Messy Weed and Novel Nutritious Green

lynna_dunn@hotmail.com (Lynna Dunn) — Fri, 14 Aug 2009 10:40:20 PDT

The dandelion is undoubtedly one of childhood’s favorite flowers; probably because it both incredibly magical and terribly messy. I still fondly remember warm weather spent crumbling mimosa pods and blowing dandelion fluff with my mother shrieking “STOP SEEDING THE LAWN!” in the background.

As an adult, the dandelion has continued to fascinate me with it’s perfect round sphere of little seed-wishes, each with a set of soft wings. The average gardener, though, is rarely so captivated. That’s easy to understand given that dandelion is very prolific and has absolutely no sense of boundaries—it will grow most anyplace, anytime, whether you’d like it to or not. This spring, in Seattle, I saw some truly amazing specimens, some between one and two feet tall. The rare dry heat of Summer 2009 seems to have curbed the crop a little, but dandelions are still cheerfully blooming up from every crack and crevice and over-run lawn. So I thought I’d blog a bit about some of the more universally useful qualities of this faery-like weed.

First, it’s long been used as medicine. Even those who don’t typically dabble in herbs much have seen a box of dandelion tea while shopping at Whole Foods or Super Supplements. According to Balch’s well-known Prescription for Natural Healing, all parts of the plant can be used, and it is an amazing composition of everything from biotin and calcium to phosphorus and zinc. It tends to appear in tea form often because it is a strong detoxifier and diuretic. It not only cleanses the liver and bloodstream and improves kidney and other organ function, but it has also been used to treat “abscesses, anemia, boils, breast tumors, cirrhosis of the liver, fluid retention, hepatitis, jaundice, rheumatism, and the prevention of age spots and breast cancer” (69).

Second, the greens are edible and plentiful. As someone who used to arrive home from playing outside carrying tube socks full of wild blackberries (Mom was really unhappy about that too), I just love the idea of eating straight out of Mother Nature’s lap (as long as her lap hasn’t been sprayed with pesticides). Mark Bittman’s Leafy Greens is an excellent resource for learning how to harvest and prepare dandelions. A few of his tips include:

The smaller the better. Leaves longer than six inches are most likely too bitter to eat.
Leaves can be sandy, so wash them well.
Use young greens in a salad with olive oil and salt, adding a little extra vinegar or lemon juice to counteract the natural bitterness.
If you can hide the plants from the sun (loosely covering them with boards, etc.) when they are about three-quarters grown, they will turn white and be less bitter.
Older greens taste better steamed or sautéed like spinach. (23-24)

Bittman also remarks that dandelions “are so loaded with beta carotene that one half expects them to be regulated by the Food and Drug Administration” (23). If Mom had known that, maybe she would have been happier about us “seeding the lawn” . . . or maybe not :-)

Psychology and Massage: Some Things in Common

noreply@blogger.com (Sue Peterson) — Wed, 29 Jul 2009 09:24:00 PDT

My client seemed particularly stressed. Her back and neck was a never-ending patch of bad trigger points and spasms. This client was all wound up.

“How are things going?” I asked. My standard way to get folks to open up when their tissues are slammed shut.

“Work is driving me nuts. Actually, the work is easy. The people I work with are driving me nuts,” the client said.

This client is a psychologist; a psychologist who supervises new psychologists, a requirement of all graduates. My client’s job was supervising and coordinating all that goes with it for an agency that provided psychological help to people in various government aid programs.

My client had a beef. Too many of her newbies were complaining about their pay and paying too little attention to getting their jobs done.

To summarize: Her new psychologists had the attitude that when they graduate, they should immediately be making $250 an hour. Their clients should be movie stars, professional athletes and rich people who pay cash. They shouldn’t have to waste time with boring public fund clients simply to fill an hours requirement. As graduates, they felt entitled to practice unfettered right away.

In feeling that way, they were missing out on a big opportunity to learn what they are doing, she complained. They don’t understand that right out of school they are lucky to be making $25 an hour, with insurance, sick days and vacation, my client said. They often didn’t listen to the sage advice of their supervisor.

My client had been on both sides of the equation. For years she had worked hard on building a private clientele, establishing referral patterns and working the flexible hours – nights and weekends - that go with people’s schedules. If she was sick or took a vacation, she didn’t get paid. Health insurance cost a lot. Some years ago she switched to agency work, glad for regular hours and a quitting time of 4 p.m.

When all this stress came pouring out, I had a reality check myself. These were some of the same issues I had struggled with as a newbie at massage, and later as a massage employer. When I graduated, I assumed I could just go right into private practice, even though I had no experience at finding and keeping clients. When I went to work at a spa, I was surprised at the low pay per massage, with no pay for down time between massages.

Later in my career, as therapist employing other therapists, I saw many an applicant who didn’t like getting one-third the money for “doing all the work.” Besides the pay, they didn’t want to work evenings and or weekends - or massage anybody hairy.

I particularly enjoyed it when they announced their vacations. The idea of asking for vacation time, a tradition at every job I had ever had in my life, seemed like an alien concept.

We talked for a while about the similarities between massage and talk therapists and expectations. Perhaps we all have odd ideas when we start in a field. My client felt better having talked about it, and her massage went well. I felt better having learned that talk therapists and massage therapists perhaps have more in common than one would think.

Hotter? Colder? How Do You Like Your Water?

lynna_dunn@hotmail.com (Lynna Dunn) — Sat, 25 Jul 2009 21:45:16 PDT

Love the girl who holds the world in a paper cup, sings the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band. Drink it up. Love her, and she’ll bring you luck. I don’t know about the truth of that, but I adore the image—and goodness knows I’ve served hundreds of Dixie cups full of water to happy, foggy massage clients. Why is water the beverage of choice? I’ve had clients ask me. Why not, say, lemonade or a nice refreshing cocktail before I go home and enjoy a post-massage nap?

Well, many therapists will tell clients to drink their water because it “flushes toxins." However, I was always taught that was something of an over-simplification. My instructors explained that, when you mash on something with fragile parts (like a body made up of cells), you generally break something. And since massage also increases circulation, giving clients water just helps the body process out all the broken stuff faster so that the client’s bloodstream is clear of it sooner. As the reasoning goes, the body is made up of water to a large extent and needs it to function, so give it water. Were the body made up of citrus juice or vodka, then serving screwdrivers would get us to the same place.

I’ve had some interesting new questions, though, lately, on whether the temperature of the water makes a difference. Some clients prefer either hot or cold over the other, and some had heard that if they drank the water at room temperature, or even warmer, it would have greater health benefits and perhaps even increase metabolism.

Most of the information my research turned up was slightly more in favor of cold water. According to many Internet health and sports nutrition sources, cold water is absorbed by the stomach faster and thus can go to work quicker. The evidence on hot water seemed to be less scientifically oriented and joined more to specific diet philosophies such as Ayurveda, where the temperatures of food and water are considered extremely important. But even here, the purists seem to prefer boiled hot water over hot water from a tap, because the latter still has “impurities.” And some of the information I uncovered on Ayurvedic dieting did indeed say that hot water increased digestion and metabolism.

Personally, I go for the simple view: Drink as much water as you can, whatever its temperature. When I’m very hot, I prefer cold water. When I’m not, I prefer it room temperature because I will drink it, not sip at it and forget it’s there. And at no time do I like plain hot water, even if it promises me the metabolism of a hummingbird. Anyone have anything enlightening or interesting to add on this particular hot topic? Or does it just leave you cold? Okay, okay, no more water puns . . .

What Happens When a SOAP Bubble Goes POP!?

lynna_dunn@hotmail.com (Lynna Dunn) — Mon, 27 Jul 2009 09:37:37 PDT

A few weeks ago I was asked to do a special blog on SOAP charts, which was rather serendipitous, since the subject of SOAPing has been much on my mind of late.

You see, at Brenneke School of Massage, I received an excellent education concerning SOAPs. We drilled and re-drilled, wrote and re-wrote, using an excellent resource mentioned in an earlier Find Touch blog, Diana L. Thompson’s Hands Heal: Communication, Documentation, and Insurance Billing for Manual Therapists. By the time I graduated I was doing SOAP charts that almost threatened to become novellas. And even though we were told that our training was “extra thorough” and we would probably not need to produce such exquisite documents in the “real world,” I still expected to immediately transfer my SOAPing skills into the first massage job of my career.

Not so. When I graduated I chose to take a job with a business that was part of a national massage chain, because I reasoned I could get my hands on the maximum amount of tissue in a relatively brief amount of time, gaining a LOT of experience. That part happened in the way I expected. However, the first time I picked up what I thought was a SOAP chart, I realized it was made up of about ten 2x2 inch squares, EACH of which was a SOAP chart. I freaked. There was no way I could get all the information in that square, I fretted to the head therapist. Not to mention the fact that my handwriting has always been an argument for bringing penmanship classes back into the public schools. Any kind of handwriting task makes me look like Michael Jordan heading to the basket back in the day, with his tongue sticking out to the side in total concentration. I had to get it all in PLUS make it really small? I was sunk.

But to my surprise, no one in management seemed upset by the lack of space. In fact, I feel therapists were encouraged to spend as little time as possible writing anything down because it would “take away” from the massage. This kind of attitude is very confusing, especially to newbies who have been trained that SOAP charts are part of what makes us healing professionals.

Recently, I begin working for another such business that DOES encourage SOAP charts, but these are done electronically, after the massage, having no paper to take on-the-spot session notes due to the desire to make it a paperless process. Well, that may be eco-friendly, but it doesn’t help those of us who don’t always have perfect recall. In any case, we are still encouraged to keep even the initial intake under five minutes, and that can be very, very hard to do and produce a chart that reflects any clear and useful record of a session, especially if you need to develop client goals (A: Assessment) for insurance purposes.

The whole issue of SOAPs, then, can become very complex. We know they are important, and we are trained to do them well. Then many of us leave school and work for businesses that don’t give us time or space to do them correctly. Then our SOAP skills atrophy; then we find ourselves, as I find myself at the moment, back with Hands Heal, polishing up because now I’m not just doing good therapeutic work, I’m doing it for insurance purposes. And yet I still may have no more than five minutes to do this. One therapist told me she solves the problem by taking notes during the massage itself. Okay, I know THAT’S out... not only is my hand writing abysmal, I can’t rub my tummy and pat my head at the same time either. Never could. :-)

So in this particular blog, I’d love to have you contribute your own opinions concerning SOAPs... do you have time to do them as well as they should be done? And if you don’t, does this detract from the professional standards you have worked to build for your massage practice? And if so, what can we do, as a community, to change it and still keep everyone involved happy?