Starting with a Pang!

Meet Moni. Moni is possibly one of the strongest woman I have ever met. Moni is a massage therapist at Saad Clinic. Moni is no stranger to suffering. She is well-trained in inflicting great deals of pain. But Moni carries a little bit of Heaven in her hands.
She established the pressure that was comfortable, and then proceeded to apply 7 times that to parts of my body that have never been massaged before. Like, for instance, that spot just under and behind my armpits. I think what she did is considered deep lymphatic drainage, but if I could actually see the spot (I can't; I've tried) I would be telling you just how bruised I am. Now when I move my arm like this, it actually buzzes a little bit.
Included in Moni's Swedish massage therapy was a little Vietnamese torture ritual that goes something like this: offer your client a BIG glass of water before you start, be sure to make her comfortable lying on her stomach, let the faucet drip nearly imperceptibly in the background (just beneath the volume of Enya's sweet serenade), every now and then apply a little pressure in the vicinity of her bladder - increase gradually. If done correctly your client's bladder should be bursting by the time the massage is over, making it practically impossible for her to relax completely. Good job!
OK so it sounds bad, but it wasn't really. I feel like a new woman (just like a lump of Play-Do can feel like a dog or a cat after some molding and hammering). I admit that I have been kneaded into a mild state of holiday. I know I insisted that this venue was as far from a holiday spot as possible, that in the heat and the sand it's more like a touch of Hell (and really I did this to try and make it easier for the dear individuals I left behind), but I think today Moni sprinkled (read as rammed) a tiny bit of Heaven into Hell, and I am all the better for it.