Treating Your Thumbs Like Fine China

If you want a long career in massage, it's important to treat your thumbs like fine china.

Can you remember the first time your thumbs cried for mercy while massaging? Could it have been when you gave your first neck and shoulder massage? It probably lasted all of about two minutes before your hands, in particular your thumbs, started screaming, right? What are the last words you usually hear right before the neck and shoulder massage you're receiving from your non-massage therapist husband, wife or significant other abruptly ends?

"Ow! My thumbs!"

When I teach hands-on massage to massage therapists in training, the first thing I notice is the predominant use of their thumbs. It's so painful for me just to watch the few seconds I allow it to go on before I school them. As humans, it's a natural instinct to want to use our thumbs. After all, we've been given the wonderful gift of opposable thumbs, it seems a shame not to use them at every opportunity. Especially when we find a big juicy knot in the back that just begs for a monster thumb to dig into it. Unfortunately, for massage therapists, it's not the best idea ~ not if you're hoping for longevity in the bodywork industry.

I like to refer to my thumbs, and my students' thumbs as "Fine China." The first time I told that to a class, they looked at me as if I was a nut. Well, despite the fact that I am kind of nuts, part of the reason, I'm sure, is that about half of the class didn't know what fine china was, let alone what it had to do with their thumbs. I explained that fine china is very delicate, often expensive, porcelain dinnerware that can be easily broken; and, it's only brought out for special occasions. Of course, certain porcelains can be quite rugged, but I was trying to instill a vision in their heads of something delicate and rare that needed to be protected from damage.

Being new in the game, they didn't believe the amount of damage ~ sometimes permanent ~ massaging with heavy thumb use for three to six hours in a row, several days in a row could do. This is de rigeur behavior of newbies (until, that is we start our massage trades when they think they're going to die halfway through their first hour-long massage). Every new class was the same.

"Alright, I'd say," as I set my stopwatch. "Let's have a little demonstration. When I say go, I want you to tap your forefingers and your thumbs together, like this ~ tap tap tap ~ until I tell you to stop. Ready? Set... Go!"

And so the tapping would begin. A symphony of 25 to 30 pairs of thumbs and fingers ~ tap tap tap tap tap ~ two taps per second. Ah, so many students started out quite confident, almost mocking me in their tapping.

"See?" they'd smirk. Tap tap tap... "I can do this ALL day."

Tap tap tap... One minute down... Tap tap tap... two minutes, then three... Wait!

"Is that grimacing I see?" I'd ask smugly. "Keep tapping! Keep up that pace! Don't stop until I say!" I'd command like a Drill Sergeant in Basic Training.

I have to say, I almost enjoyed proving my point, though I knew the pain they were beginning to feel. I wanted it to hurt, just enough so they'd get it. Finally, at four minutes I'd stop them and they would breathe a collective sigh of relief as they'd begin rubbing their aching thumbs.

It's unbelievable that four minutes of simply tapping two digits together can create searing pain in the thumb joint, muscles and tendons, but it can.

In a poll taken by terrarosa.com.au in 2008, thumb injuries accounted for between 65 and 83% of the 64 massage therapists interviewed.

I find that outrageous, and sad.

My first year of working as a full-time massage therapist in a busy spa, I worked injured. The whole year. I endured horrible pain in my hand, due to "Hook of Hamate" that began in massage school, and was constantly seeking some relief from my colleagues between sessions. My injury was due in part to the fact that we were so busy, partly because some of the rooms were too small to employ proper body mechanics, and mostly because I was not properly cautioned in my training against overusing my thumbs. I massage with wanton abandon, thinking I was invincible. As a result, I suffered needlessly while I learned a valuable lesson.

Thankfully, I was able to make some key changes to my work life that allowed my hand to heal; and of course, I really began working on my body mechanics. It helped to work in a room that was actually big enough to do massage, but that's another story for another day.

Where I taught, my students were going to end up with a $12,500 student loan balance upon graduation. I knew, based on my own experience, if I didn't find a way to drill into their heads just how delicate their hands, but especially their thumbs were, they would never manage to pay those loans off as massage therapists, because they'd most likely burn through their thumbs and/or hands in about two years.

I taught them that their hands were their money makers and they had to be treated like the super stars they were.

They had to be pampered and protected at all costs.

Prior to beginning trades we'd warm up by shaking our hands, singing "Shake your money makers!" It was rousing good fun, but it also taught them the importance of warming up prior to doing any bodywork. The invigorating, blood pulsing life evident in their ends at the end of the warm up reminded them what the focus of the whole exercise was.

In the midst of a massage trade where the class, with partners, would trade massages, I'd break the silence as I'd thrust my thumbs into the air, pointing to the heavens.

"What are these?" I'd bark in my finest Drill Sergeant voice.

"FINE CHINA!" chorused the students, massagers and the groggy massaged alike.

"When do we use them?"

"ONLY ON SPECIAL OCCASIONS!"

"Carry on."

Every massage class I've ever taught, I've mercilessly drilled the importance of protecting the thumbs into my students' heads, over and over and over again, so that they never forget what brings home the bacon, so-to-speak.

I was reminded of the importance of thumb consciousness when I saw a Tweet recently from a massage therapist mentioning how her thumb was healing and she could "probably" return to work in a week, or something like that. I'll admit, I don't know the particulars ~ for all I know she could have broken it playing basketball or falling off a bike ~ but the likelihood it was a job related injury is pretty high. If so, there's an example of a therapist losing work because the work she does has created undo stress on her money maker.

It's what prompted me to write this piece.

As most therapists know, thumbs are delicate. It's not too difficult to stress the muscles and tendons to the point of creating nerve damage. And, you don't even have to massage for a living to develop crippling Carpal Tunnel Syndrome. I've had several clients who've endured numerous surgeries because they "typed," "put small parts together," or "cleaned teeth" for a living. Anything you do repetitively for long periods of time can cause injury, which can sometimes end up being permanent.

I always struggled with my hands because not only was I a busy massage therapist, but I was also performing music regularly, playing guitar and bass, and in my spare time writing (typing) for hours and hours on end. Add to that home improvement projects and gardening and you've got hands that hurt like the devil most of the time.

I supposed that's what made me more conscious of hand safety, and such an advocate for hand, in particular, thumb well-being. For bodyworkers, and massage therapists specifically, your thumbs and your hands are your livelihood and shouldn't be taken for granted that they'll get you all the way to retirement. Treated right, they can take you all the way. Treat them wrong, and they'll take you nowhere.

Raises fists and points thumbs to the sky.

What are these?

FINE CHINA!!!

When do we use them?

ONLY ON SPECIAL OCCASIONS!

Carry on.