Stays crunchy in milk

Next week in class we begin another Deep Tissue section, this time for the hip and pelvis. This should be interesting, as there is nothing I wish for more after a long day at the office than for someone to jam their elbow into my uterus. But first! We have to get through another four-hour Pathology class. It will be the third out of… a million of these advanced Pathology lectures that make up part of the never-ending curriculum for national certification. I don’t have much good to say about the Pathology class except that we finally were given permission to swap out the metal folding chairs with cushioned, lumbar-support-blessed seats from heaven and I’m really not sure when my spine and ass have been more grateful.

Pathology lectures consist of the teacher picking one of the body systems and then listing all the ways in which it can become disease-ridden, damaged or otherwise busted up. We get the problem, the demographics, the symptoms, the treatment, prognosis and then, of course, whether we as massage therapists should work on the poor lesion-sporting leper in the first place. There is so much excruciating detail that we find ourselves looking around at our classmates, then down at our skin, sometimes scratching a phantom itch or frowning the frown of the condemned, each of us convinced we are suffering from The Herpes/IBS/Ringworm/Scabies/Hepatitis C.

Power of Suggestion, meet the class of 2007.

Always there is some horrible disease that, once it’s found, has an even worse prognosis. The teacher, a delightfully deadpan woman with a thick southern accent, describes the disease in detail, then mirthlessly states that once it’s finally been diagnosed it’s usually too late, that “at thaaat point, yer… gunn dah.” And every time she makes this morbid declaration, I swallow a giggle. And then immediately feel guilty for laughing at death, and then am convinced that I probably have whatever life-threatening condition has just been described because that would just serve me right, and that therefore I, too, am… gunn dah.

Pathology- now with more paranoia! But less ass numbing!

1 comment:

Blogger Lisa said...

I'm with you... If I'm going to listen to stuff concerning death and ailments, I'd like for my ass and back to be comfortable.

11:23 PM  

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