My body feels soft after a full body scrub and fifteen minutes in the sand room where the temperature is 150 degrees and the sounds of waves lapping against a shore permeate the space. I am now quietly ensconced in the lunch room with a cup of hot green tea and a sweet potato noodle vegetable dish on order.
My skin has taken such a beating these last six to twelve months. Common excema exacerbated by newish medications. I will be dealing with this situation now that I know what's causing red itching blotches, but in the meantime, the Korean spa just north of Seattle is a welcome respite. Especially during this busy week of sorting and packing and making decisions about the sale of Mom and Dad's house.
Spa day was a gift to myself, and yet a weird thing happened in the gushing hot tubs this morning. I've been here many times before and this was the first time that I felt the vibrations of the water jets. The same feeling I get from idling beside a car with heavy boom box amplification. My heart feels the vibrations and, crazy as it may be, it sometimes begins to mimic the other beat. And so it was this morning. I have another episode of atrial fib.
In 40 minutes, I have full body moisturizing session. That's the one with oil and milk and honey, which I always think harkens back to Old Testament biblical stories.
I'll stay quiet for now and get myself to the charcoal heat room which is good for circulation and detoxing. Then I'll follow the instructions to wash my hair and show up when #5 is called at 1:00.
The spa day is good even with atrial fib. Probably the quietest, most peaceful thing I could be doing. Just need to stay out of the hot baths. Who knew water jet vibrations would mess with me?
Atrial fib comes and leaves silently. My heart righted itself as I lay in the charcoal hot room. All of a sudden I knew I had a regular heartbeat again.
So much for water jet hot tubs.