Go Deep

Have you ever had a colonic? If not, think of the last time you had diarrhea because it’s a sneak preview of one. A therapist forcing a steady stream of warm water in and out of your intestinal tract for 20 to 45 minutes isn’t how most of us like to use our free time, but the pesticides, mucous and petrified food languish in your intestines, sometimes for years, is a great motivator. The worst offenders are the unreleased toxins that get stored in the fat cells. Sure, we hate the idea of all that rot in our guts. But it’s the promise of losing poundage that drive many onto our backs and spread-eagled while a stranger sticks a hose up our rectums.

When I need it, I put my lower half in the hands of Partners in Wellness www.gutwisdom.com. This place has primo cred and a reputation for good bedside manners, which is key since most of us feel spooked and idiotic our first time for choosing such defilement. (If you don’t live in Chicago, you can pick up the book “Gut Wisdom” written by owner Alyce Sorokie, which is about understanding and improving digestive health.)

My friendly hydrotherapist Noreen gets down to business with all the nonchalance of a manicurist about to clip some nails. Into my rectum she inserts a hygienic speculum, which is attached to a hose connected to a multigallon bottle of water that flows into the colon and out into the “evacuation” tube. Fun times. For those with scatological inclinations, the hose is made of clear plastic so you can actually watch a play by play of what your body is evacuating. Good times. If you can’t get yourself to look, no problem. Hydrotherapists tend to offer enthusiastic second-hand descriptions of what’s coming out, like Noreen did for me. According to her, except for a few “productive” surges, I am apparently one gassy girl.

Once you're unhooked, you will run to the toilet—where you will stay for at least 15 minutes—and likely then to the scale. Once I unburdened my colon of almost two pounds. The second best part of the experience is the warm “Belly Buddy,” pillow, an invention of Sorokie’s, to take the edge off the gurgly intensity of the procedure.

Two things

Today I thought I'd share two discoveries I've made because of my foot fracture. First, there's a combination homeopathic product called Traumeel (it's made of Arnica, Calendula, Hamamelis, Millefolium, Belladonna, Aconitum, Mercurius solubilis, Hahnemanni, Hepar sulfuris, Chamomilla, Symphytum, Bellis perennis, Echinacea angustifolia, Echinacea purpurea, Hypericum) that AltMed practitioners highly recommended because it's natural and has zero side effects. I always wanted to try it myself and now here's my chance. They say it can speed up healing by 50% and there are tons of information online that give it rave reviews. Traumeel is manufactured in Germany and has been in use there since 1937. It slows down the inflammation and also has a regenerative effect. According to an online source it can be used for:

Injuries of any kind (sports and accidents) e.g. inflamed and swollen joints, sprains, dislocations, used after any trauma or shock, for swelling and bruising of the soft tissues and muscles. Ligament injuries Cuts and local injuries Bruising of the hoof (it's used on horse to great effect) Concussion Strains and over-use injuries Inflammatory processes of various types and origin e.g. abscesses, dermatitis, skin irritations, conjunctivitis Skin irritation caused by friction from the saddle Inflammatory degenerative processes and those associated with inflammations, especially of the bones and joints, e.g. arthritis, bursitis, tendonitis

So go get some!

The other discovery I made—something that many of you many know about already—is imaging centers. That is, places that offer imaging procedures like X-rays, MRIs for a fraction of the cost of hospitals. I got two sets of X-rays (one to take to my doc and one for their records) of my foot for 70 bucks. The hospitals I called were asking an average of $300, which didn't include the radiologist's fee. They also said be prepared to wait because it's first come, first served. I sauntered in—well, hobbled, really—and was taken immediately. Like anything else, do your research. I happened upon a great one (Advanced Diagnostics, 2300 W. Peterson Avenue in Chicago) but I'm not vouching for ALL imagine centers.

Beyond this advice, just stay well!

More on expectations

Well, I sure have been thinking about spa expectations since yesterday. I realized that my whole interest in alternative therapies comes out of a deep respect and fascination with ancient practices around the world. I don’t want my spa experiences to be overly Americanized or supersized. I want to feel what they felt. Having said that, my responsibility comes in when I’m not particularly liking what they felt, as it’s happening, and to speak up!

During my conversation with the spa operator yesterday (she gave me the okay to use her name so I’ll tell you here: it’s Maria Sigman and the spa is Salon Echo), she agreed that many, many people don’t speak up because they worry that if they do they’ll get a bad treatment. “They don’t want the technician”—or practitioner—“to be angry with them. I’ve encountered that a lot.”

What she’s also experienced a lot of is people complaining post-treatment, which doesn’t allow her the opportunity to make it right except by comping the treatment, which doesn’t necessarily seem fair; you should be doing your fair share to make sure you have a good spa experience by expressing your needs, expectations and concerns. The other classic response, she says, is none at all. They simply walk out unhappy. Maria says, “I tend to pay attention to clients’ body language and we”—she and her staff—“do that for each other.” She’s caught many a client leaving silently wearing a deflated expression. She’s even called them at home to make it right. Which is something people really appreciate.

On the other hand, please remember, folks, that as Americans we can be pretty—how to say it kindly?—results oriented. We want it, we want it now, and we want it how we want it, often without making the necessary contribution to assure satisfaction, or without taking no for an answer when it is explained that what is being asked is not instantly possible. (Maria said a woman came to her the day before leaving for a beach vacation, expecting that her cellulite vanish with one treatment. She was told it would take at least six and that it would not go away—only divine intervention can do that—but only be ameliorated.)

So make sure your expectations are realistic, express them, and don’t be surprised if you’re told it’s not possible in the blink of an eye. “If I could tap into what peoples’ expectations
are . . .” Maria trailed off. But, as she also pointed out, spa goers tend to be of the belief that what takes place in the treatment room is very mysterious. "People don't speak up because they feel at our mercy, that they have to put up with whatever we do." And, since every single practitioner has his or her own unique style, not to mention technique, that's a whole lot of potential dissatisfaction. So I hereby give us all permission to express those expectations. Now be off and make it so for yourselves.

P.S. Mercury goes retrograde today so be extra careful while driving or doing any travel (I saw a wicked car wreck yesterday and an hour later my friend locked herself out of her car); communicating by email (reread everything, including who the email is going to, before hitting the send button); or working on your computer (save everything). The energy lasts until July 9, but you may feel it a week or two before and after these dates. It’s also most intense on the days it goes retro and again when it goes direct.

Reflex redux

I contacted the owner of the spa where my recent reflexology incident occurred. For those of you just stopping by, I wrote a post about an experience I had with a reflexology treatment that took me by surprise because it was so different than what I'd always known reflexology to be, and took my breath away because of my practitioner's aggressive technique. What I found out was both fascinating and really drove home my belief that we have to have more communication between practitioner and client.

First, it turns out that what her spa offers is Thai reflexology, the technique of which is different than Chinese or Japanese. (I figured there was no foul play, but because the menu did not indicate the distinction I didn't know what to think.) Secondly, I was told, her practitioner, an Asian, was not US-trained, accounting for even a bigger comprehension gap between us. Thai reflex—and generally all treatments before Americans hopped onto the spa bandwagon about 20 or so years ago—is designed to address health issues, such as increasing blood circulation, opening chakras or promoting healing, as opposed to being a relaxation vehicle as Americans think any spa treatment should be. While it's always going to be more aggressive (read painful) than other Asian reflexology treatments, this particular practitioner was practicing what he had learned, which did not particularly cater to the American mindset, a mindset that, again, is decidedly more leisure/pleasure oriented. Double whammy. (The spa operator reminded me that, generally speaking, historically and today the European and Asian styles are not all fun and games; it often hurts. "When I was in Italy [researching spas before opening my own] I went to several spas and I was often practically in tears," she told me.)

So how to manage the gap? Like all good spa owners, she was happy to know how I felt and will include a statement on the intake form to the effect of If you're experiencing pain, let your practitioner know. I asked her if she'd consider letting people know in advance that this might be different than what they might think it is and she said not really. "I've had so much reflexology and it's what I'm used to," she said.

At first I felt a bit put off by that, but after talking some, I came to understand her point. We're all coming from different orientations, levels of spa savvy and customs, so there is no one-size-fits-all solution. The best we can do is to come armed and willing to share our expectations, or at least know the questions to pose before entering the treatment room.

So our talk inspired her to think about additional questions to pose on the intake form such as What are your expectations for today's treatment? The question, we agreed, doesn't really hone in enough because first timers, for example, don't have a point of comparison. The question needs to be thought through more—something I said I'd be happy to think about, too, and to share if I had any brainstorms. But at least, I believe it's on the right track and might get people thinking, Hmmm. What are my expectations today, anyway? Or What do they mean by expectations? And that's a start. More on this tomorrow.

P.S.
Sorry for the gap between posts. My foot "sprain" was actually a bone fracture so I was a bit otherwise focused for a few days.