Apparently Grade 4 is really hard on your back.
Thus, off I went to the chiropractor, moaning in pain. It’s really tough to do anything when you have a sharp pain in your lower back every time you move. “Moving” includes “breathing”, by the way.
My chiropractor is a chatty young woman who is supernaturally strong. As she man- (woman?) handled me, she kept up a steady stream of patter, probably designed to distract me from the fact that my spine and neck were cracking like ice with every manoeuvre. When she finished, she casually suggested that I should think about coming in at regular intervals for adjustments, because this seemed to be a recurring problem. She also wanted to see me in a few days just to make sure everything was in its proper place. I took that to mean that she’d basically adjusted me already. I made the next appointment, assuming that it would be a quick touchup.
The next morning (fortunately on the weekend), I could move even less, but had even more pain. I wondered if she’d damaged me somehow. I’ve heard some horror stories about chiropractors, and despite the fact that I’ve always been a “oh-that’ll-never-happen-to-me” optimist, I was having serious doubts that morning. It wasn’t till mid-afternoon and a double dose of Advil and a long hot shower that I loosened up enough to find a sitting position that didn’t hurt. Getting up from that seated position was still a challenge, as was rolling over in bed, but I wasn’t thinking that my chiropractor had maimed me for life any more.
Then today I was stiff and sore again, but perhaps a little less. I still couldn’t walk very well, which a few people at work noticed and commented on. One other colleague thought my hair looked cute today, though, so that made up for the comments on my lumbering gait … a little.
I went back to my chiropractor after school and told her how painful the weekend had been. She nodded and, as she started massaging my back, said, “I thought it would be.” She completed whatever it is she does, chatting all the while, then told me that she thought she’d now gotten my back to relax enough that she could adjust the actual cause of my pain next time.
I paid, booked my next appointment, and lurched down to the carpark to retrieve my car and head home. My body was still aching. I was thinking gloomily, Two visits just to relax my back? We’re not even dealing with the real problem yet? Seriously?
Less than ten minutes later, I pulled into my garage. As I grimaced in preparation for getting out of my car, I paused suddenly. My back felt better. Much better. I gingerly got out of the car. Yes, some pain, but nothing like I’d felt half an hour previously. And now I’m sitting here at my desk, typing away, and I do not feel my back throbbing. I can already stand up less dorkily. I can walk in a less robot-like manner. I might be able to roll over in bed tonight without help!
So I guess my chiropractor isn’t trying to cripple me permanently. And now that I trust her again, I think I will follow her suggestion that I come in for regular adjustments. I’d rather give up some money every month that give up my quality of life even for a week once a year. Sensible, no?