Sarah Savasky: Body Work

Sarah Savasky has been a member of the Friday morning feedback class for a number of years. She writes, "I live alone with my husband, two really stupid dogs, one cat and the voices in my head. In my spare time (which I have lots of), I write humorous, poignant essays about living with chronic illness and other amusing subjects. I also love to make things out of vintage fabric, paper, buttons and ribbons.

Body Work

I have been to so many body “workers” that I’ve lost count. Partly because I live in Santa Cruz, which is the hub for the mind-body connection, touch-feely, new-age type people. But mostly because I am desperate for help. I thought I’d given up on them but somehow recently I let myself get talked into seeing one again. This particular person came highly recommended as a gifted “healer”. I must have been at a weak point. I must have thought I had nothing to lose (besides two hundred dollars).

Anyway, I ended up on this man’s table waiting to be healed. I’m not exactly sure what type of healer he was. Not exactly an osteopath; definitely not a chiropractor, or a cranial sacral practitioner, or a Shaman. I think he was called Dr. Mark. I know there was a “doctor” in front of his name. I’ve notice that the title “doctor” is used rather loosely in my neck of the woods hence the quotation marks.

At any rate, the very first thing Dr. Mark did was touch my heart. And I don’t mean that in the sweet, gooey way. I mean he literally touched my heart. Well not literally. He touched my chest. Then just like that he told me my heart was not in the right place. Now I know I’ve made some mistakes in my life. Some very big ones, but I have always felt that my heart was in the right place. I have never deliberately hurt anyone that I can remember.

As I was contemplating this “news to me”, Dr. Mark told me he was going to move it. He told me he was going to put it back in the right place. He said it shouldn’t hurt but that I might feel some pressure. I told him not to worry; I was used to feeling pressure. Then he applied pressure to the place where my heart was wrongly located and gently but firmly moved it just a tad…to the left…I think. “There”, he said. “That should make a big difference in your breathing and stop those palpitations.” Then he moved some other organs around and I wrote him a check for two hundred dollars.

Just so you know I did have the thought while I was lying on the table that this was ridiculous. But I realized that it was no more ridiculous than the many other bizarre things I have heard come out of “doctor’s” and other health care professional’s mouths while I have been lying half naked in their offices listening to creepy music. And also, because I am a wanna-be Buddhist I just notice and try not to judge my thoughts or the feelings that arise from those thoughts. Which I guess is the Buddhist version of “whatever.”

Also, I should say that I was not completely surprised by my heart being the wrong place. You see I have a history of heart problems. Recently I was diagnosed with cement wall around the heart disease. I like to think of it as an emotional hardening of the arteries. It was diagnosed by a physical therapist who is not a cardiologist or even a psychiatrist, but she really seemed to know what she was talking about. I did get kind of depressed after the diagnosis even though the physical therapist felt that she could help me, if I paid her for twenty sessions, cash, upfront. I left her office feeling bad knowing I was radiating cement from my heart chakra. Before the cement problem, I had suffered from two broken hearts (once in two places and the last one was a compound fracture, extremely painful). I’m no cardiologist but that might explain the cement.

I should probably mention also that I am a skeptic; some might say a cynic, about most things new- agey. But on several occasions the desperation has prevailed. Also I am accident prone. Because of this I often find myself accidentally lying on a table somewhere, wondering how I got there. Oh, that’s right, it was the DESPERATION. I’m thinking that’s how I ended up paying someone one hundred and twenty dollars to massage my uterus this morning.

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Yay Sarah!
written by Donna Aceves, April 01, 2010

Dear, dear Sarah. Reading this made me realize how much I have missed hearing you read your writings. I heard your voice in this one. It made me smile. It's good to see you 'out' in the world. And, I love your photo......beautiful.

Sarah Savasky throws a good party
written by Julie Page Ales, April 01, 2010

Dear Sarah -- I loved reading your words...you are darling, funny -- I miss you -- and awaiting your next soiree. Could we have that uterus massage person come?? We could all let go of the cement around our hearts. It's a common thing these days, I hear. Keep up the great work, keep up the great writing, keep up the chin, and the smiles. LOVE TO YOU SARAH! Julie

Lovely
written by Zoe, April 01, 2010

This is just wonderful! I too miss hearing your words and your masterful way of being poignant, funny, and touching, all at once!

Hilarious
written by Ann , May 24, 2010

I laughed. Then laughed again - - harder. Maybe because I have found myself on the same tables with 'healers' who take your money and if you are lucky they haven't done permanent damage.