My dear brother, you could've been a chiropractor

It didn't take the chiropractor long to assess me and determine that I have a problem with my S4-L1, and L4-L5, and L10-L11 vertebrae (or something like that).  I'm not sure how he figured all that out without an MRI or voodoo magic, but he demonstrated to me how my flexibility and strength are clearly lopsided.  Plus, every consequence he described of those vertebrae being locked up sounded exactly true, so I guess he wasn't making stuff up.


Then he outlined a plan of treatment which involves twice-weekly office visits for 3 weeks, followed by 8 weeks of physical therapy rehab which I will mostly do myself at home.  And then--so he says--I will have repaired enough core strength to live a normal life back-pain-free.


!!!


Such an extravagant promise makes me wonder if he's a TV faith healer too.  A voodoo-witch-doctor-fire-and-lights-snake-handling-faith-healer.


I didn't see that mentioned on any of the many diplomas hanging on the wall.


After discussing the plan of action, he proceeded to do "An Adjustment."


Whoever named it An Adjustment probably also tells women in childbirth that they'll feel a little pressure.


"An adjustment" implies moving my shirt over half an inch to cover a peek-a-boo strap, or tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.


This wasn't like that.


This was more like folding me up like a pretzel and jumping on me until my spine sounded like a string of firecrackers going off.


Or like a game of Twister:  "Put your right hand on your left shoulder, bend your right leg, put your left leg back, look to the right, put your left hand on your left hip and...." followed by the sound you hear when you twist a sheet of bubble wrap.


He had me sit up and hug a pillow, and then tackled me onto my back and CRUNCH.


He took me in a headlock and wrenched my skull around to pop the bubble wrap in my neck.  He warned me, "Be very careful who you let do that to you."


All in all, it felt very much like my childhood growing up with my brother.  He may have missed his calling in life.


Or he may be the reason there's a market in my town for chiropractors.