These give my soul heart attacks and make babies cry more than they already do.
If you know me at all, you’re well aware that my fears are legend and legion. I’m scared of planes, spiders, medicine, cancer, blood, needles, doctors, public speaking, alopecia, and those swim socks that make your feet look like hands. In an attempt to grow up a little, I’ve tried very hard to face many of my fears and over the past three years forced myself to fly to New York three times, read my writing in front of people, and let spiders live occasionally instead of shooting them in the face.
Driving me on this path of self actualization is that I don’t want my daughters to be afraid of everyday, normal things, or of extraordinary things. Fear is a mofo. I don’t want its wily fingers to wind around their brains the way it did mine. They deserve better. And so do I.
But even given all that, the one act I would not, could not do, EVER, is visit a chiropractor. No way, no how. Chiropractors crack your bones, twist your neck like Steven Seagal on acid steroids, and paralyze you maybe. No, no, NO. The hell no. Forget it, I’m serious. Facing my deathly fear of chiropractors was NOT AN OPTION. Chiropractic care? One phobia I would let lie. My mind? Closed on that one. I would rather get on an airplane without Xanax.
Yeah I know. I’d heard all the stories. Sinus troubles erased, persistent sports injuries cured, vision improved. I didn’t care. I’ve seen Chuck Norris movies. I watched that horrifying scene in The Last Samurai where Tom Cruise punished the enemy by MANUALLY breaking his spine and bent him backward over a rough hewn log. These are bones, people. BONES. That disgusting cracking sound they make is like Paris Hilton and Britney Spears singing a duet. It bleeds your ears dry and kills you.
And can you believe? Despite the above? The Rock makes me walk on his back and push his spinal column to crack it. (“Spinal” is the grossest word ever.) Of course I refuse, but the thing about The Rock is he doesn’t let me off so easy. He’d totally be that kid in those movies who encouraged the bespeckled hesitant kid to cliff dive.
God bless him.
But still no.
I refuse to crack bones or have them cracked anywhere on my person.
Until…
TO BE CONTINUED…
(I have to tell you in all honesty that I never thought I would be doing what I am doing now. Not in a million years.)
People don’t believe me when I tell them this, but honestly, my father made me promise to him on his death bed that I would never go see a chiropractor.
I am tempted as my husband swears about his own ‘personal’ chiopractor!
I just went to a chiropractor for the first time because I was at my wits end with my upper back shoulder pain. Like you, they freaked my shit out. And? It was AMAZING. And my pain? SO. MUCH. BETTER. Do it!!! Do it!! Do it!!
I am freaked the hell out by the notion and concept of chiropractic care. Never been and cant imagine I ever will have the balls to try it.
I love my chiropractor! He only uses the activator, though, no cracking. It’s helped my fibro immensely.
So I have a hunch you’re going to the chiro? No? Can’t wait to read more!
For the record: Toe shoes are ubber-comfortable. Once you try them, you don’t go back.
– pvh
I for one, am impressed that you have overcome the spider fear…I mean, after all how often do we walk through a web, flail our arms and screech IS IT ON ME? IS IT ON ME? DO YOU SEE A CHIROPRACTOR ON ME?
little victories some times are larger than they seem.
I love my chiropractor, who has lifted me from the fiery pit of unbearable pain with one crack of the spine. However, MY fear is to succumb to a massage of any kind. I had a foot and leg massage once and that was enough to send me quivering into the corner. I cannot imagine a full-on body massage.
You crack me up sister! Can’t wait to read how it went. xoxo
Deb, you just knock me out! Great writing! :D
I really, really want to know how this ends, but I am not holding my breath, seeing how you suck at writing Part Two’s.
;-)
You are so funny.
I wish I was sitting across from you right now.
Cracking up at your stories about yourself.
I love a visit to a good chiropractor. A little cracking makes me feel happy. THose toe shoes, on the other hand, freak me out, too.
Okay. I’m afraid of a pedicure let alone a visit to the chiropractor.
But mostly that’s because I am chronically wrong about how to behave under new circumstances.
It’s tragic.
So you go first. Tell me what it’s like.
And the. Maaaaayyyyybeee I’ll try it.
But the spider thing?
On. Your. Own.
I meant and “then”.
As in “and THEN maybe I’ll try it.”
But I went for cute with the maaaaayyyybeee and blew the “then”.
New circumstances and me. Don’t mix.
But now we’re friends. So next time I’ll do better. Promise.
I am kind of curious to go visit a chiropractor and see if they can help my back loosen up a bit.