Several weeks ago, I had my very first chiropractic appointment. I injured my back sometime in college, when I was around 20-years old.
I'm not entirely sure what caused the pain, but I've narrowed it down to two events:
1) Lifting up a bus full of nuns and disabled children, after a harrowing car accident.
2) Doing an inverted thigh hold/tail split, while pole dancing.
It was an interesting year.
Fortunately, I am not in constant pain, but my tailbone had been bothering me a bit in recent months, so I decided to make an appointment. I must also confess that I am a frequent neck/back popper. I know that people are really sensitive to hearing others do that, so I make sure I only do it in discreet locations, like staff meetings, during the sacrament, and bikini waxes.
I really wanted to make sure that I chose someone who was reputable and had only "allegedly" paralyzed 20%, or fewer, of his patients, so I made a highly informed decision, and picked the first chiropractor listed on my insurance.
I was totally confident in my decision, as evidenced by the following conversation with Adam, the night before my appointment, as we were laying in bed:
Me: "So, I'm probably going to end up being a quadriplegic tomorrow, or impregnated, like on that 'Lifetime' movie, after my appointment."
Adam: "Well, you are insured, right?"
Me: "I wouldn't be dead. I would be in a wheelchair for the rest of my life, and you would have to pay to take care of me. I can't believe you aren't taking this seriously."
Adam: "You're right. I'm being insensitive. I would make sure you had the best care $2,000 a year could provide. I will also make sure to visit you at least once a week, which will be easy, once I'm driving my new Hummer, after I sue the doctor."
He's so lucky I'm not prone to dramatics.
I made sure to do my research before arriving to the appointment, by looking up "Chiropractor" on Google Images.
After seeing the previous picture, I decided to arrive topless. I had a feeling I was going to be a big proponent of chiropractic care.
They escorted me into the doctor's office, where I had to watch a seven minute video about chiropractic care. I believe the title of the video was The Lady Doth Protest Too Much. The video tried to convince me that chiropractic is perfectly safe, and that I would not end up with any type of spinal trauma. Or with a broken neck. Or dead. Or with a face like Mickey Rourke. It was very comforting.
I was also given a packet to look over, that explained the different techniques used, what kinds of problems chiropractic care treats, etc.
As you can see here, the pictures and information were completely up to date:
I am thinking this picture was taken right before she shot J.R.
And then I came to this picture:
Now, we all know how I feel about babies. I think that machetes and anthrax are perfectly appropriate children's toys, but even I was shocked to see that adjustments are done on babies.
After taking a couple of x-rays, it was determined that Betty White and I have the same back. And breasts. Sob.
Apparently, I have Degenerative Disc Disease. The chiropractor told me the disc above my sacrum is almost gone. (I do not recommend saying "sacrum" in mixed company.)
After paying $150 out of pocket, the chiropractor doing some move where I had to do this:
and receiving electroshock therapy to my back, the good news is that I will only need to see the chiropractor three times a week, for the rest of my life, at $35 a session, and name my uterus, and my left ovary, after him. I would say that's totally reasonable, which is why I've been completely ignoring all his calls.
I will say, that since that session, my back has been feeling slightly better, and more importantly, I went from looking like this:
I just named my right ovary after him, free of charge.
Monday, September 13, 2010
Snarked by Kristina P. at 9:02 AM