"So you've never been to a chiropractor before?" the doctor asked this morning as I stood for inspection after detailing my back woes.
"No," I shook my head.
She poked my back and then my hips. "Your spine is a little curved up here," she jabbed a spot between my shoulder blades. "Does that hurt?"
"No," I answered.
"Well," she sighed, "it's a combination of age, arthritis, and that bend in your spine. I can adjust you today, but you'll probably have to manage your condition on and off for the rest of your life."
I sighed.
"But you do that by moving!" she said. "The more active you are, the better, and then when you need an adjustment you come on back in."
That was news I could live with.
The adjustment, on the other hand? Was stunning in its vigor as she swiftly cracked my joints in four places, although not without warning. It didn't hurt, but the noises were a little gut-wrenching. Within five minutes, she was done, and I felt better already. Not 100 percent, of course, but definitely on the mend.
"Ice your back tonight, give it a few days, stay active, and come back if you need to," she advised, and I was on my way, happy to have her on my health care team.
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