Are you happy? Are you healthy? I didn't feel either of those things. For a few weeks my teeth are clamped tight, even when I'm trying to sleep.
Today was a Happy Health Day in my church. I made an appointment for Roberta and brought her there. In a small room there were a few Japanese ladies from our congregation. They put three mattresses on the floor, and on them laid the happy recipients of the treatment. One of them was even snoring!
The machine is called the Happy Health machine. It's based on a principle of positive and negative charges interacting in our bodies. Because we have iron in our blood, sometimes, the positively or negatively charged, iron enriched blood platelets clamp together and prevent the healthy circulation. By using the Happy machine and with the knowledge of the energy points of the body one can promote healing, or so I was told.
Anyway, Roberta, with our help, lowered herself onto one of the mattresses. The ladies began to work on her, and I dived into my book. Time to time, I would raise my head and look at what they were doing or answer a question. It was very peaceful. The ladies spoke in Japanese - like water running over the pebbles. My book was very interesting, so I was surprised to see Roberta already being helped from the mattress. She was done. One of the ladies came up to me from behind, massaged my shoulders and made some comment in her own language, which elicited a lot of Japanese sounds of either astonishment or concern. That made me feel a little worried, but the lady behind me put a small version of the Happy machine to the top of my back, and I felt all relaxed and even sleepy. She continued to work on me for a while, as another lady knelt in front of me and started to do the same thing to my feet. Some of their ministrations hurt, but not too badly.
Since I was not prepared to be treated, I expected the ladies to leave me alone any time now. I didn't make an appointment for myself, after all! They stopped and told me that I needed to lie down for fifteen minutes. That made sense, I felt incredibly relaxed. Of course, it was one thing to agree to lie down on a mattress on the floor and another - to get my large, stiff, un-exercised-in-a-century self down to that level! It was an air-mattress. As I plopped on it, it retaliated by bouncing under me and almost throwing me off. I kept my eyes tightly shut from the embarrassment of it all. Once I was down, I realized that they were going to use the large machine on me now. In utter misery, I looked on as they began waving a flat pad with studs on it in front of me. It had to go under my dress and under my back! The mattress was not done with me yet. I had to sit up to let them put the pad in, but the mattress bent under me, making me flop up and down, my legs sticking in the air in a decidedly undignified manner. I solved the problem by simply rolling to the side, while they stuck the blasted pad under me.
Why did I let them continue? I could've made any excuse and refused to be treated. How would I ever look them in the face every Sunday, after they saw me flopping around like a beached whale? But the ladies were so cute and nice, they were inescapable! One of them massaged my belly (it seems to be a big thing with the Japanese). I felt very uncomfortable and, at the same time, very sleepy.
The final test was to get up from the floor. I managed to do so without any help, but, I think, I left what remained of my dignity on that mattress!