Tuesday, Tuesday, I LIVE for Tuesday! Tuesday, affectionately and privately known as "crack your bones" day, it's the day I surrender my spine to the hands of a strangely familiar face. Now, just a little background -- I'd've rather broken my leg again then lie on a table and have someone push around my bones while I was conscious. Just visiting the office with my husband made me nauseous. The sound of the table popping back into place made me nauseous. The head gear and the strange ball-like weights some have to hang from their heads like the torture of some sinister dungeon master of the 16th century made me nauseous. The chiropractor himself made me nauseous. (Ok, to be fair, it wasn't really HIM as a person who made me nauseous, just the thought of someone doing the pushing and the popping and the twisting and the cracking *shudder*). Friends, it was truly the whole package. But now, now I have the "Make the noise! I live for the noise..." mentality. Yes, Tuesday through Thursday is like the new Friday through Sunday for me, a second weekend of sorts...well, really only at night...for the hour I'm sat on until my back sounds like a bag of popcorn mid-frenzy in the microwave. It. Is. SPECTACULAR.
Anyone who knows me can tell you I'm a really sweet, loving, kind, generous, honest, open person (and only a few of those people are at gunpoint, I swear). But, as my husband aptly (evidently) puts it, I can come off as a grade A bitch to those who don't know me. It's not that I don't like people. It's partly that I can be painfully shy. It's mostly that I'm perhaps grossly overcautious when it comes to new people. I can't help that I was born with the 6th sense of being able to judge a person's character accurately from my first interaction with them. As a result, I tend to be a little more quiet so that I can take everything in from the start....their interaction with me, their interaction with people I know/care about, their interaction with coworkers, their interaction with others I don't know. I watch how they carry themselves, how they speak, what words they choose, how they're dressed, how they take care of their appearance (or don't...ew!). I make mental notes of whether they make eye contact when talking with me or look anywhere else. I watch to see where they look when I ask them questions, whether they're accessing, remembering, lying or truly stumped. I'm a scrutinizer...all for the sake of making sure that the people I let in to my life and the lives of my family members are truly people of quality. Drama kings and queens need not apply.
So my husband's chiropractor....oh poor Dr. Travis! I'm quite sure he didn't know what he was in for when he and his techs suggested he bring me and the boys in for the Luau they were throwing. I was skeptical....and shocked. I didn't analyze the techs much. They passed the basics, so that was good enough for me. But I'm sure Dr. Travis felt like he was getting a lesson in "Wenches 101." Between the Luau and the analysis appointment, I think he got hit with the full on course. Like a champ he handled every question with impeccable "bed-side" manner. He was kind, gentle, and out-going with me from the start. I noticed the same to be true for my family members and other patients. And he's a happy person! That's not to say he doesn't have his rough days...I'm sure he does...who doesn't? But he's just so genuinely happy and it's so nice to interact with people like that. I've spent 7 long years surrounded by so many negative people! Yuck! He and his office are a breath of fresh air. They're this brilliant beam of sunshine that makes my day better, no matter what else has happened. He seems to have a healthy relationship with his techs....obviously still the clinic director, but without any sense of being an overbearing authoritarian...definitely one of those bosses that everyone hopes to have. He carries himself with importance and self-respect without belittling those around him. That's the first time I've met a doctor like that. Major, m-a-j-o-r points. He's articulate, speaks intelligently and has mastered the dying art of patience. He'll explain the same thing eight times over, all in different ways, if you need him to, without ever making you feel inferior. I'm not sure I can say much about his dress...work requires scrubs of sorts...so I suppose the jury is in deliberation due to lack of evidence, but compared to everything else, that's not as much of a factor. I suppose in the category of appearance it'll just have to be a pass/fail. I don't feel like it's that hard for guys to look kept up, but then again I don't have to shave my face every day. So he'll get a pass. Zach says he works out...bonus for being a doctor who's actually interested in being healthy himself -- I've met some fat, alcoholic smokers that call themselves doctors and, um, yeah, no thanks...and I read online that he pulled a fire truck for the grand opening of his office?!?!?! WHAT?! Yeah, I'm still processing that one too. I think he's the first person I've ever met that makes eye contact 99.9% of the time when he's talking to me. If he failed the rest I could almost overlook it all just for this one long lost quality! I can probably count on one hand the few times he's accessed/remembered (told by eyes) when talking with me. Pretty. Freaking. Impressive.
My husband knows, understands and appreciates my ability to read people so easily and quickly and trusts my instincts, so naturally he's told me several times that if I don't get a good feeling we can find someone else. I can honestly say that I've never had more confidence in a doctor's abilities. Sure, my instinct tells me that he was probably a frat boy party type in his 20's, but he has the look, attitude, social skills, etc. of someone who's been through different experiences in life, has become the better for it all and has settled into his best self.
So you may be asking yourself...did he pass? Did he pass?? DID HE PASS?!?!
Yes.
BUT, that's not to say that I didn't cringe the first time I was asked to lie down on the table...how could I not? A stranger who's a good 6 inches taller than me and looks like he could have bench pressed the fire truck he pulled was going to move my booooooones! *whimper* Whatever he did to my lower back felt like heaven. Yes, please, I'd like some more. Pressing on my neck? Eh, bearable. But the BEST, the creme de la creme is hugging the towel and being slowly lowered until my spine explodes like a roll of black cats. Ahhhhhhh! Not only does it feel exquisite, but it's one of the few times when I don't feel so grossly overweight...because I tell myself, if the man can haul a fire truck, I surely must feel like a butterfly in comparison! HA! (I don't want ANYONE commenting and bursting my bubble about that...you hear me?!) ;) The last adjustments, when he cranks my neck around 180 degrees in the attempt to bring me closer to my owl ancestors I could definitely live without...but if he thinks it's necessary, I'll learn to hoot and hunt mice too. In the end though, I'm happy. So happy, in fact, that little does he know, but when we move back to St. Louis next year, I will be packing him in my suitcase and setting him up in an office in our basement so that we don't have to find someone else. Either that, or we'll be spending a ridiculous amount of money traveling back up to his area for adjustments.
I'm quite sure I'll have more on the subject...each appointment seems to lend itself to new anecdotes, but for now, it's time to grab my first real meal of the day before collapsing out of exhaustion (on my back or side...not my stomach...*sob*).
P.S. Dr. Travis, if for some reason you come across this....I'm sorry about the course in "Wenches 101"...I promise I'm really not like that...ask any of my friends, and just ignore any click that sounds like a gun being cocked ;)
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