I went back.
I guess I didn’t have to, but it felt like I should at least give it one more shot. While I’m not at Pat’s level of chiropractic magic belief, this round wasn’t as scary as the first.
The waiting room is super small in this office. Like, 4 chairs, a space heater, and a tv stand ALL UP in the way, and Monday afternoons seem to be the go-to-appointment times. There were 7 people when I walked in, and by the time it was my turn, there were at least 5 new patients who’d come in.
The receptionist was on the phone with a woman who’d mistakenly dialed their office instead of the McKenzie Police Station. (Does McKenzie even have one? I had no clue that thriving metropolis supported an actual station.) but the woman ended up wanting the receptionist to look up a few other numbers for her because her son had misplaced her “readers” and her phone book. So we heard all about that sweet little woman, God love her, and how it’s our duty to help where we can.
I sent a lot of snaps about the experience…
And stared at my feet a lot to avoid eye contact with one woman to my right who was so loudly eating a recce cup the guy next to her could taste it.
She was called back a short time after she pranced around to claim her turn was next and had made a stop at the reception window to offer her services to the woman looking for more phone numbers. But while she was back there, we all heard her say, “in the name of Jesus” 3 different times while she was getting her adjustment…
They’re not doing very well at easing my fears here.
She got back to checkout and was cackling over if we all heard her say it. She said she just needed that little extra oomph to help the good Doctor get her neck back in line, otherwise it was going to be one heck of a week for her.
And then they called my name.
Geez. I mean, how do I even follow something like that?
I went to a room with a table that had an air compressor going under it. An AIR COMPRESSOR.
*Sidenote: If this is is all totally normal stuff that happens in this kind of office, just call me naive and have a laugh at how much of a deal I’m making out of all of this, but really!?! An air compressor. Just sit with that a minute.*
It was humming and the gauge was spinning around strangely, and I couldn’t get past how much it sounded like Pat when he’s cleaning up saw dust in his shed.
The doctor came in, asked me a few standard questions, and felt around on my back and hip. No biggie.
Then he said he was positive the stretching was doing wonders for the piriformis issues, and was only going to do a hip alignment instead of a total adjustment. There was another moment of terror I voiced over the way he had me lay on the table, and he just laughed.
Insert eye roll.
Trust is a big deal in this situation. So trust me when I say I will fall off this table if you keep telling me to roll this way and stretch my leg that way.
But I did like he asked, and after a “place your arm here” and “slide your bottom leg down like this” he pressed down on my hip while he did something to that arm/shoulder I had propped up, and all was right with the world.
It was an immediate sense of relief that I didn’t know I was looking for. He mentioned how I should start walking with better weight distribution and that would help with the Sciatica problem. Then he told me he’d see me again in 2 weeks since my body was “just so responsive to the process!”
I left feeling slightly better than the first time. I didn’t invoke the Lord’s name while I was on the table, but I also didn’t make a followup appointment. I’ll keep going with that stretching business and leave the rest to the people who need it more than I do. Or to Pat when he gets a headache.