Thursday, November 02, 2006

The Bone Doctor


After many years away, I've returned to a chiropractor. My neck and shoulder have been torturing me for weeks. I have trouble sleeping. I have trouble sitting in one position for too long. I have trouble at times in Pilate's. And recently I've been getting these searing hot flashes in my lower back.
So I made an appointment and visited Doctor Jeremy Goulet
Jeremy (the young man in the white shirt, I don't the smiling kid on the left!) is the son of Gary Goulet, who has been known my father since they were in college, and he's adjusted them a few times a year for nearly two decades. So I called Jeremy and told him I was looking for an old school chiropractor. One who likes to get in there and move some bones. One I don't want is somebody who is going to hook me up to a car battery and try to jolt my muscles into regaining their old physique.

After our initial consultation, he brought out the xrays and gave me not one, but two surprises. First, my lower spine, which used to have a severe curve in the lumber region (including a pinched nerve between L4 and L5) is in great shape. There's no sign I ever had any problems. He couldn't tell I spent the better part of three years getting a severe case of Scolliosis corrected. He didn't see any reason the doctors wanted to put titanium rods along my spine. It looked great. The second surprise wasn't as welcomed. My neck is definitely started to deform.

We should have seen a nice curve, like this: )

Instead, we saw a sharp angle, almost like this: >

And it is that ever collapsing angle that is impacting my neck and shoulder. My years of doing yoga in Atlanta, GA, likely corrected my lumbar region, and my workouts the past year have keep it in good shape.

So he gave me an adjustment and lit up my day. I immediately felt the difference as I was walking out of the office. My head felt lighter. The muscles in my right shoulder weren't pulling up to my ear. My right hip was coming forward. I also arced to my left, because my right side felt so much lighter and more relaxed.

I'll certainly be seeing more of the bone doctor!

Wednesday, November 01, 2006

Tricked and untreated


Yesterday started off with a twist. Most of it in my stomach! I'm not sure what hit me or why, but as I'm driving to work in the morning, god reached down and decided to put me and my car inside an invisible washing machine and kick up the spin cycle. Within the course of a mile, I was nauseous, dizzy, and damn near blind as I struggle to a) figure out what is going on, b) what I'm going to do, c) how can I stay on the road without killing myself or a bus load of nuns. Fortunately god took pity on me in between his obvious chuckles and guided me home safely. All the way, my hands were gripped to steering wheel to the point of my knuckles turning white and my palms slick with sweat, I kept ramming my tongue against the roof of my mouth to keep from passing out, and I was panting like an eighty year old hound dog in the middle of August.

Cindy had made it home from dropping off Meg and was opening the door to see what I'd forgotten. Then she saw my face, and the way I was struggling to stay on my feet, while simultaneously keeping my hand over my mouth to hold down the surprise visitor and using the other hand to frantically open my dress shirt. Something clued her into the fact that she needed to get out of the way and I quickly staggered to the bathroom for an intimate conversation with the commode. Between heaves, I stripped down to the bare essentials. Finally ended up on the top of our bed, nearly delirious and telling my beloved not to call 911, I'd be okay if she just left me alone for a minute.

Three hours and several almost unremembered trips to the bathroom later, I woke up on the comforter, drenched in sweat, and mumbling for Cindy to call work to let them know I was alive, but not by the scientific measure of the word. And then I left the realm of the waking for another hour.

That was yesterday. And Halloween was little more than me sitting by the front door with my head in my hands, shuffling to bring a plastic pumpkin full of treats to the nearly three dozen goblins and ghouls who somehow knew to knock as loudly as possible and to scream their demands for candy at the top of their lungs. How my brain managed not to rupture from the onslaught, I may never know.