Earlier this week I posted about the chiropractor visit. That was just a consult; my first adjustment was Friday.
When I think of how my muscles, cardiovascular fitness, recovery from illness, or most anything improves about my body, it's the result of a gradual and steady process, like that of fine sculpture.
Chiropractic, on the other hand, is like fixing a dent on an old Chevy.
Grab your neck and snap it to the right and left, incredibly similarly to how Steven Seagal kills ninjas, only he only needs to do it once. Based on the sounds rattling between my ears, I'm thinking that Hollywood sound effect mixers for Seagal movies had regular chiropractic appointments.
Put you on a table, with moving parts that thrust upward suddenly, with less force than necessary to throw you off the table but enough force to make you look like you're inventing a dance move.
Doctor, while probably trying to stifle giggles, tells you to exhale deeply. Just as you run out of breath nearly to the fainting point, she gives a mighty shove from behind to accelerate the process. But you don't faint; you schedule another appointment.
After three minutes of near-death experiences, you are released to a chair in the back room to be strapped to a machine emitting electricity. Electrodes are placed wherever on your back the source of your problem is, and the technician slowly ramps up the juice until you tell her that you can't stand any higher. Then you hold that position for ten minutes, or until wracked by seizures, whichever comes first.
My analytical mind struggled mightily to grasp the logic behind such a traumatic approach to healing, and I told the doctor so. Over the weekend I contemplated whether to continue the treatments, contact the police, or change my identity for protection in case they decide to hunt me in between visits.
In the end, I decided that things happen for a reason. The person who referred me to this doctor is a trusted friend. God has had a hand in my pain, and will have a hand in my recovery. This feels like a case where I'm unsteadied by the process, but need to trust that God wants me to follow directions; to spend the next two weeks on holiday from exercise that could compromise the effect of the adjustments; and whether it works or not, to make a decision from there.
1 comment:
Oh gosh. I was, just this week, contemplating seeing a chiro. Last weekend we had a massage therapist from a chiro office in Ptown at the store. She told me I may have a compress in my spine. Up near my neck which is pressing on a nerve and my muscle there is getting angry. Hence my discomfort. Gave me a good rubdown and suggested I make an appt for a FREE consultation and exam. I'm tempted. But after reading your entry I'm hesitant. Also, the occupational/physical therapist in my mind is saying "NOOOO, no adjustments!!" I fear getting reliant, even addicted to the jolts and 'near death positions' as you say...hahaha. I feel better since the mini massage, but am probably more aware of the root of my issue and sense the muscle starting to flare again. My grid roller has been used regularly and I am thinking I can start some exercises that will help ward off the severe stiffness and even pain.
Post a Comment