The lights are low. Soft
music is playing. I am lying face
up on the table. This could be a
scene at the spa, as relaxation slows and soothes the mind. It’s that time before the masseuse
comes in. I might be undressed but
under the covers, waiting to smell the warm massage oils and feel the strong
hands caressing my neck and shoulders, my head feeling weightless, my neck being
cradled and moved gently from side to side.
In reality, I am fully dressed and lying on the table in the
chiropractor’s office. There are
no warm covers and my head is in a traction device. “Your head weighs nine to 12 pounds,” explains the
chiropractor. “We’ll actually be
pulling up with about eight pounds.”
It’s like the episode of the television program “24” when the girl from
CTU is held in a device and tortured.
“Tell us what we want to know, say the government agents.” They slap her face. She refuses to talk. They get tougher. The traction device is tightened. She grimaces in pain.
I can imagine the face slapping.
“Relax. Chill out. Calm down.” This is another in a long string of tortuous attempts to
relax my neck. “No, please don’t
hurt me,” I would ask. Now my headache
is getting worse. ..throbbing.
The neurologist suggested the chiropractor. That was after the dentist made a bite plate for me to wear,
the optometrist shined bright lights into my eye and the psychiatrist wrote a
prescription for pain medication. “This
pain is real and it’s going to be tough to get rid of,” he said. “I suggest seeing a neurologist.”
Maybe it is a design flaw.
That bulbous head rests on a column of discs that can degenerate with
age, get knocked out off axis from whiplash and cause a host of problems from
arm pain to debilitating migraines.
Some say it is because man was never meant to walk on only two legs
instead of on all four.
No wonder it takes so many medical professionals to diagnose and treat
the source of pain. It is so
intense that many folks avoid bright lights, repetitive sounds, perfumes and
other chemical odors. Many
experience nausea and modify their diet.
“Jessica,” I told my hairstylist, “I can’t lean back in the basin for
you to wash my hair.” Could I be
the only client who bends over frontwards to have her hair washed? The dental hygienist sees me coming
into the office for a cleaning.
She blows out the candles so I am not bothered by the scent. She knows not to douse herself with
perfume the day I am scheduled to come in.
There are medications to prevent or manage migraines and block the nerve
pain. It takes a village to tame
the beast and even a non-believer like me is willing to try something new. And that is how my journey finds me at
the chiropractor. Anything to stop the pain!
The chiropractor returns and removes the traction device. “We’re moving you into another
room. You’ll feel some pulsing
from the electrical surges.” More
torture. They’re electrocuting
me. Ten minutes go by. The pulses are getting stronger,
faster. The television remote
control doesn’t work. I can’t even
watch the morning stock report to take my mind off of this.
“No, I won’t relax no matter how much you torture me.” I am putting up a
brave front to the government agents.
CTU would be proud of my fortitude. I pay the bill and walk out of the office. Outside the sun is shining. No government agents are in sight. I take my migraine medication out of my
purse and place the tablet on my tongue.
Slowly I get in my car and drive home.
Two days later there is silence where there once was pain. Fewer irritants disturb me and I have
less of an edge. I am standing up
straighter just like my mom told me I should.
Relief has come at last.
My next visit to the chiropractor is next week, even though the final episode
of “24” has aired and the program is over.
Susanne Katz is the author of “A Woman’s Guide to Managing a
Mid-Life Divorce,” the host of the
radio program, “What Women Want” and a columnist for Atlanta
Jewish News. She is also a regular ShareWIK.com contributor.
More Susanne Katz articles,
click here
@2010 ShareWIK Media Group, LLC
The lights are low. Soft
music is playing. I am lying face
up on the table. This could be a
scene at the spa, as relaxation slows and soothes the mind. It’s that time before the masseuse
comes in. I might be undressed but
under the covers, waiting to smell the warm massage oils and feel the strong
hands caressing my neck and shoulders, my head feeling weightless, my neck being
cradled and moved gently from side to side.
In reality, I am fully dressed and lying on the table in the
chiropractor’s office. There are
no warm covers and my head is in a traction device. “Your head weighs nine to 12 pounds,” explains the
chiropractor. “We’ll actually be
pulling up with about eight pounds.”
It’s like the episode of the television program “24” when the girl from
CTU is held in a device and tortured.
“Tell us what we want to know, say the government agents.” They slap her face. She refuses to talk. They get tougher. The traction device is tightened. She grimaces in pain.
I can imagine the face slapping.
“Relax. Chill out. Calm down.” This is another in a long string of tortuous attempts to
relax my neck. “No, please don’t
hurt me,” I would ask. Now my headache
is getting worse. ..throbbing.
The neurologist suggested the chiropractor. That was after the dentist made a bite plate for me to wear,
the optometrist shined bright lights into my eye and the psychiatrist wrote a
prescription for pain medication. “This
pain is real and it’s going to be tough to get rid of,” he said. “I suggest seeing a neurologist.”
Maybe it is a design flaw.
That bulbous head rests on a column of discs that can degenerate with
age, get knocked out off axis from whiplash and cause a host of problems from
arm pain to debilitating migraines.
Some say it is because man was never meant to walk on only two legs
instead of on all four.
No wonder it takes so many medical professionals to diagnose and treat
the source of pain. It is so
intense that many folks avoid bright lights, repetitive sounds, perfumes and
other chemical odors. Many
experience nausea and modify their diet.
“Jessica,” I told my hairstylist, “I can’t lean back in the basin for
you to wash my hair.” Could I be
the only client who bends over frontwards to have her hair washed? The dental hygienist sees me coming
into the office for a cleaning.
She blows out the candles so I am not bothered by the scent. She knows not to douse herself with
perfume the day I am scheduled to come in.
There are medications to prevent or manage migraines and block the nerve
pain. It takes a village to tame
the beast and even a non-believer like me is willing to try something new. And that is how my journey finds me at
the chiropractor. Anything to stop the pain!
The chiropractor returns and removes the traction device. “We’re moving you into another
room. You’ll feel some pulsing
from the electrical surges.” More
torture. They’re electrocuting
me. Ten minutes go by. The pulses are getting stronger,
faster. The television remote
control doesn’t work. I can’t even
watch the morning stock report to take my mind off of this.
“No, I won’t relax no matter how much you torture me.” I am putting up a
brave front to the government agents.
CTU would be proud of my fortitude. I pay the bill and walk out of the office. Outside the sun is shining. No government agents are in sight. I take my migraine medication out of my
purse and place the tablet on my tongue.
Slowly I get in my car and drive home.
Two days later there is silence where there once was pain. Fewer irritants disturb me and I have
less of an edge. I am standing up
straighter just like my mom told me I should.
Relief has come at last.
My next visit to the chiropractor is next week, even though the final episode
of “24” has aired and the program is over.
Susanne Katz is the author of “A Woman’s Guide to Managing a
Mid-Life Divorce,” the host of the
radio program, “What Women Want” and a columnist for Atlanta
Jewish News. She is also a regular ShareWIK.com contributor.
More Susanne Katz articles,
click here
@2010 ShareWIK Media Group, LLC