The Body Whisperer

Yesterday morning, number one Son was being defiant. He is quite proficient at being defiant and has really mastered it. Number one Son loves to get stuff out and build stuff, but not redo what he's scattered. He has ample energy to malign but seems to tucker out at the thought of putting back what his Mom and I feel is right. For the boys, they are comfortable in mess. If our home were atop a scrap yard they would feel right at home. There are times I feel like I"m living in a scrap yard as there is "scrap" everywhere. I'm sure Teensy will be a scrapper too, she's taking notes and watches very intently when her bro's on their missions of destruction and defilement.
Number one Son had scattered robe belts, braided belts, shoes, animals, and other ephemera from this room all over our room. Mommy had told him three times to pick up his things and take them upstairs without response or reaction from Number one Son. He was very busy watching Public Television and living with Clifford at the time and just couldn't tear himself away from Treasure Island. After all he had seen that episode at least ten times and just couldn't miss the "good parts." After the third extol from Mom it was time to bring in the big guns--DADDY. I told him twice with out response or reaction. "Titus, this is the last time I'm going to ask you nicely to pick up all of this stuff and get it to your room."....Nothing. All of the card were on the table and it was time to put up or shut up. I had to put up.
As I walked over to him like Oprah through the corn field he snapped back to Oklahoma and said, "Dad I am thinking about it. I'm just not ready to do what I want you to do. I want to do what I want to do." Too late I had him by his left arm and was lifting him out of the chair, then gave him a swat when--SNAP! I popped my neck! As he walked away destroyed by my correction but more by his defeat I stood in sheer and utter pain. The right side of my neck had seized up and was killing me. He was over his trauma by the time he back from upstairs, me I was walking around like Frankenstein in agony.
I knew I couldn't survive this and called my Chiropractor. I have just started going to the Chiropractor, right before Teensy was born. It's a bizarre field of medicine. My Chiropractor is a member of our church and a nice guy. He walks with the natural medicine, let your body talk to you field of healing. He did help me with back pain, and I was hopeful that he would be able to help me with this issue. "What's the problem--oh I see your neck." His office is an old Dentist office that was built in the late 40's early 50's by the standard old Dentist office setup. It still smells of "dentist" when you walk in and has that old nostalgic musty smell that people who love old things love to inhale. I really like the office and especially love the "old smell."
"Let's see what muscles need my help." He asked me to hold out my left arm and not let him push it down. As he started rattling off these geographic locations on my body, some would make my arm fall some wouldn't He knew exactly where to go from there. "Let me get the laser." LASER? He has this new fangaled laser that communicates with your body's light and corrects the problem by giving it the right light. See I don't' get it, and can't even begin to explain how in the world it works. It just blows me away. After several minutes of laser therapy, stretching, an ill fated crack which hurt like a motha' he said, "Sherrie get me a tens unit." What was going to happen next. The body whisperer had something up his sleeve. I didn't think I was going to like it. I think I failed to mention that I really don't care for any kind of rubbing or touching in a massage kind of way--PERIOD. The Body Whisperer's main mode of treatment involves lots of rubbing and a complete and total violation of my personal space.
This tens unit is machine about the size of a deck of cards that attaches to your belt. There is a plug in which has wires that lead to two triscuit size squares of electrodes which are applied to your ailing body parts. As his nurse stuck those things on the affected area she said, "OK, just tell me when you feel this." I felt it immediately, it was wretched. This machine sends constant pulses of electricity into your body and contracts the muscles, over and over and over. "Now Will, wear this all night tonight, don't sleep in it and don't take a shower in it. Why was it necessary to mention that you shouldn't shower in it? I got that default! How many people did it take for that to be part of the, "how to use the device which sends electricity into your body" speech. That is filed away in my memory drawer of the Huh file. Among the other things in this drawer: Who was the first person to see a cow, notice the udder and think, "I want to suck the liquid out of that and drink it." Or see a chicken watch it excrete an oval ball out and say, "I'm cracking that for lunch." Stuff like that. I wore the thing with trepidation knowing it would draw attention to me which I didn't want and more not wanting to reveal how it happened. That's always the first question.
During my stay in the office The Body Whisperer's nurse began talking about her baby. . She is very pregnant and expecting a baby in May. She is over forty and had not plans to add to her family--in fact believed that she could not have children at all. It was a total surprise to her the she was pregnant but, she had more than 24 hours notice though so no sympathy from me. She was talking about raising her baby on goats milk, kind of bizarre but then, "I would really like to use horse's milk. They sell powdered horse milk at the feed store and I've been thinking about that." Thank God I was lying on a table because I would have fallen over dead on the ground. Powdered horse milk from a feed store? ...for a human baby! What the...? I'm just not even in that realm of thinking. Very strange. Very strange.
The neck it somewhat better today, but still recovering. I have to go back on Friday and get another adjustment and laser therapy. There will be a new sense of creepiness in that office now, I'll have a squinted, half cocked confused speculation look on my minds eye. The first sign of a chicken foot and I'm gone!