This past Wednesday, I started losing sensation in my left hand, specifically, the pinky and ring fingers, and the left side of my face, along the lip and jaw, went all tingly. Both the face and the fingers felt just like I’d had a shot of Novocaine that was nearly all worn off. Thursday, my back, left arm, and left shoulder hurt, and I was still “tingly”.
     After describing this to my husband (and several other people), it was generally agreed that it sounded like I had a pinched nerve, and that I should see a chiropractor. I scratched my head and figured, “Okay. I guess.”
     My personal jury has always been out on chiropractors. I know that my dad went to one for years for some extreme back problems, and that his chiropractor always seemed to get Dad back on his feet — literally. I also know that chiropractors are generally considered to be a bunch of quacks that don’t really accomplish a whole hell of a lot of anything, and in some cases, can actually be dangerous. Dad has always said that it’s a matter of getting a “good” chiropractor, and not one of the con artists. I’ve always figured that it was probably okay, as long as you weren’t seeing one of these guys who thinks they can cure your diabetes by cracking your back.
     
     Yesterday, I take myself off to my husband’s chiropractor. The office was a nice, clean little place full of friendly, happy people — just exactly the kind of happy, helpful, sympathetic folks whom I’d like to find at my (non-existent) family doctor’s office. They give me the standard paperwork to fill out, along with a little questionnaire about my medical history, including what kinds of back problems I’ve had, and if I was on any medications or had had any surgeries, that sort of thing. I filled that all out and turned it in, and while waiting, spotted a curious thing: On the coffee table in the waiting room, they had a series of news clippings in a desk-organizer type of box, carefully arranged by headings like “Flu Shots”, “Chiropractics”, and “Immunizations”. I wish like hell that I’d had more time to read these little news articles. I scanned the flu shot article, from a Chicago paper, and it seemed to be bashing the flu shot, on the basis of the swine flu fiasco.
     I was quickly called into the consultation office, where I was shown a four-minute video entitled “We Are Not Quacks, Goddammit!” Okay, no, that wasn’t the title of the video, but it was the general gist of the thing. It went over the education a chiropractor gets, and how a chiropractor does their thing, and about the “subluxation” idea that chiropractors seem to follow.
     Now, at this point, I’m getting a teeny bit . . . hmmmm . . . let’s call it “wary”. The pamphlet I’d been given in the doctor’s waiting room had used the word “holistic”, which I generally consider to be a big warning bell that there’s some woo going on. The pamphlet also had something to say about chiropractors aligning the spine to allow the body’s natural wisdom to heal itself, or something to that effect. At this point, I’m thinking, If this guy whips out any crystals or pyramids, I am so totally out of here.
     The doctor came in a few minutes after the video was done, and seemed a nice, friendly sort of guy. He asked me a few questions about the problems I was having, and what and how much pain I was in. He tested the reflexes in my elbows, which seemed to be fine, and tested my hand strength by having me squeeze a metal bow with a gauge on it, and apparently that came out fine. He had me hold my arms out and pulled on them, with me resisting, to test my strength, and everything seemed good there. Then he got up and poked and prodded at my upper back a bit, finding some sore spots along my upper spine and in the back of my neck.
     I’m thinking so far, so good, and I haven’t heard this “subluxation” word yet — which sounded like bunk when I heard it in the video, and looks even more like bunk as I read about it. Finally, the doctor sends me into another room for the x-rays.
     Apparently, there’s some controversy about chiropractors doing x-rays — and now I’ve lost the fricking link to the article I just read about it — but basically, they’re doing lots of full-trunk x-rays, which are bad for you. But I figure, hey, I’m a smoker who lives next door to a gigantic corrupt chemical factory which has regular accidents. What’s a few x-rays compared to that, right?
     After the x-rays, the doctor has an initial look at them — I hope. I’m not sure. I don’t get to see these x-rays until next week. Hmmm. So, the doctor takes me into the room with the table, explains some things, and gets to work on the initial adjustment.
     So, let’s explain a few things, here. I’ve been in the restaurant business now for about ten years, partly as a waitress, and partly as a manager. Working as a server will pretty much destroy your back. Consider that we’re spending much of a four-to-eight hour shift hefting 50-pound banquet trays up over one shoulder and sprinting them around a restaurant. Consider all the stretch-and-lift work we have to do, and the fact that the majority of our job is done at a half-lean across a table with a weight at the ends of our hands. It causes some back problems, to say the least. In fact, I’ve never met a server who didn’t have some kind of chronic back pain. For myself, I’ve given up on ever having a “normal”-feeling back again. I expect to suffer low-grade back pain for the rest of my life, and that’s not to mention what my legs and knees are doing to me.
     So, the doctor explains to me that the upper curve of my spine should curve one way, and instead, it’s curving the other. In addition to that, the vertebrae have started to twist in one direction. I consider the fifty-pound heft over one shoulder, and find this to be a reasonable explanation. Having no medical training, and not having seen any x-rays yet, I can’t swear that this is what’s going on, or how likely this is, but all things considered, this sounds reasonable. “You’ve abused the piss out of your upper back for ten years, and now you’re paying the price.”
     So, the doctor tosses me up on the table, which is seriously cool — it swivels and twists and turns all over the place — and proceeds to attempt to adjust me. He puts his hands on my back and gives a shove, and nothing happens.
     ”Hmm.” He says.
     He tries a few more times, and doesn’t get much of anywhere. Meanwhile, he makes a few consternated comments like, “You really shouldn’t be this tight.” and “It shouldn’t be like this.” and “Y’know, I’ve worked on football players who weren’t this hard.” At this point he’s basically got me rolled up in a half-pretzel and is reefing on my back and neck until he finally gets a few things to pop.
     Now, mind you, this doctor is a big guy — certainly bigger than me. In theory, he could probably toss me around like a rag doll. So, you know, it’s not like he’s a little guy my size who just isn’t strong enough or something. I suppose, also, that he could have been putting on a show for my benefit, so that I would feel like I definitely needed to come back and give him more money many more times. It didn’t necessarily seem that way, but it certainly could have been.
     I’d also like to point out that, when you first start cracking your knuckles, let’s say, that it’s difficult and it hurts. It’s only after you’ve been popping your knuckles for awhile that it gets quick, easy, and feels good instead of hurting. So, I have to wonder if chiropractic is the same thing. Chiropractors vehemently claim that it isn’t, but you know . . . being a life-long knuckle-cracker, I’m seeing some similarities here.
     I’m scheduled to go back on Monday for some more adjusting, and then Friday to see these x-rays. After that, we’ll see how it goes.

     Linkage: Chiropractic at Skepdic.com, Chirobase.org.

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