The waiting room smells like eucalyptus and soft instrumental music drifts through the air. Your back has been aching for months — hunched over a desk, ignoring every warning sign — until your doctor finally put his foot down. Now you're here, sitting stiffly in a cushioned chair, reading the same laminated brochure for the fourth time. Nadia at the front desk calls your name with a warm smile and tells you Marcus is ready. Your stomach does a small flip. You've never done this before — never let a stranger's hands work through the knots you've spent months building up. But the pain isn't going away on its own. So you stand, take a breath, and follow the hallway toward room three.