Thank you, Nawal Sordo, physiotherapist in Tangier, for your support over the past three weeks following my left shoulder injury. The experience, quite ordinary in itself, has given me much to reflect on. I’ll expand on that below.
But first, thank you Nawal, and Rahma your assistant, for your professionalism, kindness, and effectiveness. You make an outstanding team of therapists!
The Injury
Fatigue, clumsiness—or both… I took a bad fall one evening during an Aikido training session. The pain was immediate but bearable, with a sense of a locked left shoulder and a completely weak arm. A traumatologist friend who was present confirmed that the joint hadn’t dislocated but diagnosed a mild sprain.
Beyond the pain, I felt diminished (putting on or taking off a T-shirt was almost a feat in itself) and barely slept that night. I wasn’t keen on trying the various creams and medications quickly suggested by friends. As a Shiatsushi, I was more inclined to seek manual therapy, and turned to Nawal Sordo, a well-respected physiotherapist in Tangier. We already knew each other, and she saw me the next morning.
The Treatment
Nawal wasn’t content to rely on my friend’s initial diagnosis. She insisted on further exams—X-ray, ultrasound—to rule out complications like fractures or tendon tears. That precaution reassured me for what lay ahead.
The trauma was confirmed to be a non-serious sprain. In the meantime, the hematoma was significant and the pain remained intense, especially when moving or touching the area. We waited a few days before beginning rehabilitation.
We did five sessions—no more. Each one combined manual therapy, stretching and strengthening exercises, and electrostimulation. After three weeks, I’d regained most of my mobility, though some discomfort remains and pain still flares up in certain situations.
Personal Work
From the first morning, I committed to a daily Do-In (self-shiatsu) practice to support energy flow throughout my body. It wasn’t easy: my left hand couldn’t even reach my face. I did what I could, and the daily practice helped me track my progress.
After ten days, I was able to perform the full Do-In sequence properly. I know this played a role in my recovery, as did the stretching routines I learned in Aikido.
Then came the strengthening exercises Nawal prescribed during the sessions. I’ve never been into weight training and don’t really enjoy these kinds of exercises, but I applied myself seriously. I’ve been doing them ever since. They support the recovery, protect the joint, and provide a sense of progress.
The advice I followed the least—though it was given from day one—was to apply ice to the injury. I never seemed to find the right moment. That was likely a mistake… since the area stayed “hot” and painful for quite a while. Ice might have helped ease the discomfort and improved my sleep in those first few nights.
Rest
I didn’t have a shiatsu session scheduled the day after the accident, and I made sure not to take any the day after that either. But by the third day, I was back on the futon. The first person I treated didn’t know it, but it was a personal test.
My shoulder and arm weren’t at 100%—far from it—but I managed to do the session well. Things improved steadily over the following days.
As for Aikido, I took a full two-week break. I continued to run and swim moderately, encouraged by the physiotherapist.
When I returned to Aikido, I found that one particular movement was blocked by pain and/or fear. We talked about it during a session, and Nawal gave me specific exercises to work through it.
Receiving Care
Being “injured” is far less gratifying than being the one who gives care. Alongside the pain come fears of long-term damage, recurrence, and economic impact.
Socially, there’s a strong impulse to hide this newfound vulnerability. A tempting posture, but not always feasible. In Morocco, where expressions of affection and concern are frequent and spontaneous, a painful shoulder does not go unnoticed!
That’s why the care framework matters so much. It allows you to let your guard down, to share your discomfort—whatever its level—knowing you are heard and supported. One word sums it up: trust.
Nawal and Rahma offer that trust-based space. I wasn’t unfamiliar with these notions, but living through this experience renewed my appreciation of their essential value.
As a Shiatsushi, it is my responsibility to offer that same space of listening, care, and effectiveness: to hear the complaint, observe imbalances, bring relief, improve well-being, and, when necessary, refer to other specialties.
