Wednesday, May 12, 2010

Skeletology: The Demons Hanging In My Closet- by L. Ron Cupboard

I've just come back from another appointment with my chiropractor, after having awoken on Thursday morning with an excruciating pain in my neckticular region (Thats not actually a word, but it just sounded cool )

The first thing he asked me on the initial visit was how I had injured myself. Now, im a building contractor. I cant go around saying things like "I pulled a muscle in my neck while turning in my sleep". This just doesnt sound like the manly thing to do! Besides, do I really want to be the first guy to have injured himself while sleeping? When did sleeping turn into an extreme sport?So there I was,my mind racing at breakneck (excuse the pun) speed to find a suitabably macho reason as to how I had injured myself, when I blurted out the first answer that sounded plausible: "A friend and I went lumberjacking for timber to use in a log cabin we're building, and I must have worked that chainsaw too hard.
"There. Doesnt get more manly than that now, does it?
"Oh? Isnt it cheaper and easier to buy them complete from Builders Warehouse?", he asked.Tsk tsk... buy them.. ready-made... from a hardware store... in a shopping mall... These metro-male doctor types really have lost the plot... driving their fancy drop-down 2-seater sports cars, covered in sunscreen, manicures and facials too.

Anyways, I transgress.

So it turns out that an injury such as mine could be the result of trauma to the body experienced years ago, the effects only being felt now.
I hadnt been in a motor accident of any serious consequence previously, neither had I fallen off a bicycle or a ladder... so all the obvious culprits were ruled out. We finally pinned it down to all the indoor cricket I play, since he wasnt buying the fact that watching the missus swipe my credit cards at the rate she does could cause anybody whiplash!

Moving on.
My usual chiropractor is female, only because I find her a lot more in tune with my pain as a woman. My pain as a male, and she understanding it as a woman, thats what I mean. The fact that she's beautiful has absolutely nothing to do with her as my first choice for the pain-to-pleasure process. Besides, i've always detested guys who choose service providers based entirely on their looks. Its so demeaning and sexist. These people are professionals, and should be treated as such.

Anyways, so Dr Cayene (or Hot Chiili as I like to call her) wasnt available, and I was seeing Bruce today. Im not sure if its Dr Bruce, since he looked like a prop for the All Blacks, with hands like Godzilla. Big, not hairy, thank goodness. I was there for a massage of sorts, not an exfoliation or to have my back sand-papered!

The first thing you notice when you go to a chiropractor is how casually they ask you to remove your shirt, like its the most natural thing in the world. It is when youre usually seeing Dr Cayene, but when youre seeing Bruce, who's left bicep is the size of both my thighs, a little bit of anxiety does set in. This guy could straighten the spine of an African Rhino with one hand while wolfing down a Nandos full chicken meal with the other!
Then theres the bed they have you lie on. It looked so different, warmer, softer, gentler, more appealing when Dr Cayene would ask me to lay on it. When Bruce growls for you to get on the bed, you almost feel like King Kongs bride on her first night! I was tempted to ask him if we couldnt talk first, you know, get to know each other a bit better, some soft music maybe, some flowers, turn down the lights... he didnt even offer me some Earl Grey for crying out loud... which I figured I would be doing later.

An hour later, and feeling infinitely more mobile and painfree, I walked out of there with my posture upright and my dignity intact. It turns out that Bruce actually was pretty good at what he did. Im not sure i'll be seeing him instead of Dr Cayene (which is in fact her real name!) in future, but in her absence, he'll do perfectly thank you very much.