Aging gracefully through midlife

The Golden Girls, a frozen shoulder, a pain in the neck, and the importance of finding the right Registered Massage Therapist

Have you ever had a massage by a registered massage therapist (RMT)? When I first sought this type of holistic healing for sore back and neck muscles, I went through a really odd, somewhat awkward experience. This turned me off massage at a time when I could have benefited from regular treatment. When I resumed my search for another RMT a few years later, I found someone whose method aligned with my expectations. In this newsletter, I share a few stories about my holistic healing adventures involving massage and other treatments for pain.

But first, let’s talk a little about aging. This article is a 16-minute read, so grab yourself a beverage and get comfy. ☕🫖🍸🍹🍷🛋️

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Rarely have I felt as old as I do when I have some sort of a pain in my body. Doesn’t matter what age I’m at, if there’s pain, I feel old. This means I’ve felt old at least some of the time since my early 40s.

But what is old? In this youth-obsessed society, where anti-aging remedies co-exist next to pharmaceutical supplies to ease the transition of natural aging, we tend to have a somewhat superficial idea about the definition of ‘old’.

The Golden Girls TV show

I can’t help but recall the popular TV series The Golden Girls which depicted what I thought at the time was a bunch of ‘old ladies’ living together as roommates in south Florida. As a teenager, I certainly considered people who had adult kids as ‘old’ and Dorothy, Blanche, Rose and especially Sophia all fit the image in my head. I marveled at their social adventures and was, admittedly, a little shocked with their sex and dating shenanigans (did old people still do that?). I did however, even at age 16 or so, appreciate the contemporary take on aging in that sitcom. ‘Life isn’t over at 50+’ was a theme which threaded through the seven seasons the show aired on television.

The ages of the actresses did not reflect the ages of their characters, at least not in three of the four cases. I believe these four ladies were supposed to reflect women in their 50s plus a senior in her 80s. Rue McClanahan, who played sex-obsessed Blanche, was 52 in 1985, which is younger than I am today. She was closest to the ages of the characters they played. Betty White, who played Rose, and Bea Arthur, who played Dorothy, were both 63 in real life, older than I am today (but playing women in their mid to late 50s). And Estelle Getty, who played 80-year old Sophia, was in fact only 62 when the show launched! She played her role well as the old and cranky but very funny matriarch of the group.

For that era, the Golden Girls reflected the real look and behaviour of the female 50+ cohort. Take a look at women in their 50s today: What do they look like? Not like the the TV ladies of the 1980s, that’s for sure. (Thank goodness for that, as the fashion and hairstyles alone makes me cringe worse now than it did back then.)

For reflection, here are some pictures of me as a 40-something mom of a 4-year-old, and again with the same girl a decade later.

Note: I have been colouring my hair since my late-40s. In actual fact, my hair is quite grey behind the auburn colour I feature in the present day picture.

Here are a few more of what I look like now, although I admit to angling the camera in such a way that it minimizes my wrinkles.

Times have changed since the Golden Girls aired in the 1980s, at least in terms of fashion or physical appearance, and the pursuit to look younger than one is continues to plague us all. Note the botoxed foreheads, the fake eyelashes and nails, the coiffed and spritzed hairstyles, but also the increase in health and fitness which provides a different kind of glow in appearance…

However, when aches and pains begin to manifest in midlife, the whole concept of aging takes on a whole other meaning, one that might make us feel old despite outward adjustments to conceal true age.

Aging-onset pain

The International Association for the Study of Pain defines pain as an unpleasant sensory and emotional experience associated with, or resembling that associated with, actual or potential tissue damage.

Acute pain is temporary and typically serves as a warning that something is wrong with that part of the body. This type of pain usually resolves itself as one heals.

Chronic pain is defined as pain that lasts longer than three months. The World Health Organization (WHO) adds that chronic pain is a diagnosis in its own right, and divides it into two parts: primary pain and secondary pain.

Chronic primary pain refers to pain that exists after tissue healed, or as something that has no identifiable cause (which, to me, invites debate as I believe there is a neurological aspect not mentioned which might be worth exploring further).

Chronic secondary pain occurs when there is an underlying disease or condition and the pain felt is associated directly to that disease or condition. (example, rheumatoid arthritis)

There is today an increasingly diverse approach to pain management options which expands beyond the ‘fix the symptom with a chemical’ mentality. I am, in principle, not against taking a pill for pain management, but I don’t rely solely on pharmaceuticals to solve my underlying issue(s), particularly if the pain is associated with the natural wear and tear of the body during aging.

Chronic versus occasional pain

I don’t feel old all the time. I don’t have chronic pain, meaning, I’m not always in pain. I take relatively good care of my body. Yes, I sometimes fall off the nutritional wagon just like most of us do, sometimes I indulge more than I should. I also have my periods of lazy, the I’ll take the car to drive to the convenience store up the street lazy, a walk which can be done in under ten minutes.

But I’m not what one would call a sedentary person, even though I spend much of my awake time sitting at a computer. I move my body regularly through manual labour such as housework, dog-walking, hanging laundry on a line instead of tossing it in the dryer and the ubiquitous running up and down the stairs to collect dirty dishes from the teens’ rooms, that sort of thing. And I do yoga fitness about three times a week most weeks.

The pain in my neck

The pain in my neck known as reversed cervical lordosis has been in my life longer than its official medical declaration via an X-ray in 2018. I’ve always struggled with pinched nerves, frozen shoulders and headaches caused by tension in my neck or shoulders, but since learning of my condition, I’ve been more alert to ergonomic posture.

A reversal of cervical lordosis occurs when the cervical spine's vertebrae bend in the wrong direction.

In my case, the natural curve in my neck which should resemble a C is straightening.

Seeking treatment has been an on-again-off-again ordeal, much like an unrequited relationship with an immature man. (Ha.)

I didn’t seriously pursue ongoing (aka preventative) treatment until I was well past my mid-40s; I was too busy and preoccupied trying to figure out how to parent my two very active minions in a much-too-small-house filled with too-much-stuff.

I just assumed the pain would go away by itself, at which point I could go back to doing what I was doing before and not worry about flare-ups.

Denial didn’t suit me well but the alternative, to run to various appointments all the time, wasn’t easy to accept. I was evolving into an increasingly insistent introvert and going out during my precious few moments of alone-time to seek treatment from strangers was quite unappealing. Over time, I grudgingly admitted the repeated flare-ups might be chronic.

I knew I needed an attitude adjustment.

The frozen shoulder incident

I remember one incident involving a pinched nerve leading to a frozen shoulder lasting over three months. When my now 19-year-old son was around 11 or 12, I took him to his Marshall Arts session in Mississauga, a so-called ‘bedroom community’ bordering Toronto on the west side. The drive was about 25 minutes (give or take). It was November, a weekday, and already dark outside despite only being about 5:30 pm.

Driving there was awkward. Moving my arms to turn the steering wheel was downright painful. My right shoulder was frozen and prevented my head from turning 90 degrees to the right.

You try driving a Honda Odyssey - essentially a minivan - with a frozen shoulder. Not fun.

Once we got to the gym, I sat on a very uncomfortable folding chair and waited for the session to end. I probably looked at my phone which meant having my head in a position that was not good for my neck. The session was an hour and then it was time to drive home again.

On the way back, it was spitting, then raining, making the roads wet and slippery. I worried about my ability to get us home because the pain in my upper back was getting quite unbearable. Somehow I managed to turn onto the highway and off at the designated exit. The longer I was driving, the more intense my desire to stop driving became.

When we arrived at the bottom of a main artery, I stopped at a red light. I had to turn left to get onto the last main road but my neck and right arm were so sore, I wasn’t sure how this was going to happen. Would I be able to apply enough strength to turn the wheel all the way to the left?

Just thinking about the turn made me tense up even more, if that was even possible.

I peered at my son by shifting my eyes, unable to move my head to the right, and contemplated if I should ask him for help.

“Can you help me turn the wheel left when the light turns green?” I asked the poor, shell-shocked kid next to me just as the light turned green.

He didn’t know what to do, so he did nothing.

I berated myself for putting him in this position. Seriously, what was wrong with me?

Somehow we got home in one piece where I took a handful of pain medication.

Traditional and holistic treatments

At home, my partner gave me a lecture and booked me for a doctor’s appointment and X-ray the next day. The results suggested I get aligned and I began to see a chiropractor who gave me temporary relief by adjusting and cracking me into place. His methods helped align my posture and eased the pain somewhat but didn’t eliminate it. Plus, the cracking stressed me out, so I pursued a more gentle approach by booking a physiotherapy appointment.

Relief came after several sessions over a two-month period and eventually, I found myself return back to normal use of my neck and upper body.

But the reversed cervical lordosis continued to flare up semi-regularly over the next dozen or so years.

The impact of pain on an aging body

The older I get, the harder is is to rid myself of pain. Not impossible, but more challenging. I also noticed it takes longer. I don’t spring back to normal use of my body as quickly as I did when I was a youthful and lithe spring-chicken.

Today, I’m a Gen X woman of 55 years old young. I’m of average height and average weight, neither too thin nor over-weight (although this fluctuates during winter months albeit not excessively or dramatically).

I believe I lead a normal life with a moderate approach to life’s indulgences and an intrinsic understanding that exercise and fitness is good not just for my body, but also for my mind. I know how to listen to my body and adjust when needed by increasing my water intake and:

• cut the sugar when inflammation is obvious

• reduce the white carbs when the pants get too tight

• put down the wine glass or cocktail for a week or two

It’s not really rocket science. When things deteriorate, I pay attention and adapt.

This approach has worked for me for many years, but now that I’m in my mid-50s, it’s taking longer to get back to neutral when some ailment makes itself known.

The repeating cycle of pain

As I type this, the pain in my neck has been with me for weeks. It took me a while to return to treatment (yes, I endured another lecture from the well-meaning partner and for once I will admit he was right and I was wrong, hah). There is a deep-seated resistance, maybe even denial, that this pain is happening to me.

I tell myself:

If I just spend an entire weekend in bed resting, I’ll wake up on Monday morning and the issues will have disappeared.

This does not work. I do not recommend.

I switched chiropractors to one who belongs to a sports medicine clinic. He applies alternate therapies (TENS electrical system, acupuncture) as well as traditional physical manipulations (alignment, repetitive movements and pressure points) which has proven to be quite effective.

At first, he told me to come back weekly, for two weeks. Then he said every other week. He showed me how to use the resistance bands to aid in strengthening the affected muscles, and told me to stretch my neck four times a day.

It’s been slow, the improvements, and there are days when I still reach for the Ibuprofen, but I can feel the return of normal motion and range taking effect. And I am exercising more regularly again, focusing on stretching, core and strength.

I also added massage therapy which is just heavenly. (Massage, for me, has been a regularly recurring benefit even when I do not feel pain in my neck.)

The multi-faceted benefits of massage therapy

It took me years to find the right massage therapist.

Almost 20 years ago, I visited a male massage therapist who came highly recommended by various health practitioners in my neighbourhood. I’ve always been a little hesitant about massage therapy, but I needed help, so I sought him out with some trepidation and booked an appointment.

Once I got there, I knew immediately this wasn’t going to work out.

It may seem a little unfair to say this, but the room he conducted his business in was a mess. It looked like an office; there was a desk covered with paper, binders, supplies and other clutter, a chair on top of which he had piled a bunch of books, and bookshelves on every wall filled with more books, papers and random stuff. The massage table was squeezed in the middle of the tiny room and looked completely out of place.

If you’ve read me for a while, either here or on my blog, you know how clutter and mess affects my disposition.

Additionally, the room was painted a hygienic, clinical type of white but smudged with spots of questionable origin (water damage, mold?). The walls were chipped and the baseboards dirty. Did he realize I would be staring at these baseboards while he massaged my back?

I was too nervous and tense to think about closing my eyes.

The overhead light was an ugly lamp covered in dust emitting a dirty yellow sheen, and the window high up on one wall let in even more light. Normally, I like natural light or bright, neutral colours on walls, but I came here to relax and be soothed out of pain. The atmosphere in this room did not induce calm and serenity. (Maybe it’s me…)

Still, I was there and I needed relief, so I stayed.

We handled the paperwork and then he left the room so I could change. I didn’t know where to put my clothes, there was clutter everywhere. I put them on the chair with the books.

During the session, he talked incessantly which was difficult for me to pay attention to because I struggle with hearing loss. In his defense, he sounded like a highly intelligent man, and under any other circumstances, I would have enjoyed having a conversation with him. But this was not the time.

About ten minutes in, I began to wish the session was over and silently counted down the remaining 40 minutes.

Although the massage worked in terms of loosening the tension in my neck and upper back, I didn’t cherish the experience. I only went back once more, then gave him, and massage therapy, up completely.

I would be another several years before I found the courage to find another massage therapist. I simply talked myself into trying out another place, giving myself permission to leave after one session if it didn’t suit my needs without feeling guilty about it.

Why did I feel guilty? I have no idea, maybe because I know the practitioners are well-meaning and I didn’t want to make them feel bad.

The lady I see now, I’m happy to report, is fantastic and I hope she continues her services for a long time. Her original location was walking distance from my house in the city, and the little space she rented was comfortable and minimalist in appearance (which is, as you may know, my jam). Shortly after the pandemic she moved into a new business down the street and I went with her. A year later, she fulfilled her dream of having a home-based business and converted her basement into a studio.

The space she created is stunning! I so admire her sense of style and her attention to details in terms of decorating.

The images below are from her Instagram account and she gave me permission to use them.

A pleasant, attractive environment matters to me, particularly for services which are designed for healing. I find Jessica’s massage room calming and inviting, essential components on a psychological level when it comes to the intimate nature of healing the body by physical means.

I don’t know if you’ve every experienced this, but until you find a place where you can lie on a massage table comfortably and be completely at ease, you do not truly understand the meaning of letting go. When I lie on Jessica’s very comfortable massage table in a beautifully but minimally decorated room, with low lighting and soft music playing, I can literally feel my muscles relax even before she re-enters the room and begins her work. This does something positive to me mentally, which of course aids in my physical relaxation and, in turn, promotes healing.

When she comes in, she doesn’t talk, she keeps the lights low, the music optional, and she lets me relax completely, almost to the point of taking a nap.

Aging is a privilege

What does all this have to do with being old?

Aging healthily is possible without excessive or reliant/repetitive use of pharmaceuticals, operations and other invasive treatments for most people.

Honestly, when someone tells me their acupuncture didn’t work after trying it once and simultaneously does nothing else to aid the process of healing (i.e. keeps up the bad habits that perpetuate the inflammation or pain), then that is simply an unfortunate scenario (to me).

Holistic approaches are not meant to work instantaneously like some magic pill to mask the underlying issue(s), but rather, initiate a life-style change to promote pain-free living.

For the record:

I do not rule out traditional methods of medical attention. While I struggled through my neck and shoulder issues, despite seeking alternative treatments to solve and eliminate pain, I still occasionally reached for the Ibuprofen. Sometimes, getting a good night’s rest without waking up due to pain encourages the healing process as well, and the Ibuprofen allowed me to ‘forget’ the pain for a while, allowing restorative sleep.

Optimal health while aging is possible, but it takes focus and commitment. To prevent pain, or rid of it when it manifests, is possible. Take it from someone who knows.

Now it’s your turn. Would you like to contribute to the conversation?

Some of you enjoy leaving a comment on the public forum, but others of you have taken to emailing me. I welcome both, so don’t be shy.

Or email me here: writerofwordsetc (at) gmail (dot) com

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