Tag Archives: Bagpuss

I’m Well Adjusted…

I've Got Your BackMy chiropractor called me the other day and said, ‘oi, your boss has just been in for an appointment and told me you don’t want to book in as you think you’re too fat. Don’t be daft, come in!’

‘Can’t. Too fat. Could break your bench, honestly. Potentially very, very embarrassing.’

I’ve been visiting the chiropractor for over 12 years now. He magically sorted out my neck problems, brought on by exiting a car through the roof at high speed (not classy, pretty painful) and he’s also treated The Teenager since he was a toddler.

That Fateful Day two years ago when I woke up unable to speak or walk properly, he was the first person I called. After talking gibberish, he summoned me to his clinic, ran through some neurological tests and quietly told me to go straight to hospital. He was the first to put MS on the table and helped keep me sane through the long, anxiety-ridden diagnostic process.

Anyway, I went to the clinic, putting all fears of rolling off the bench with an ungainly thud to one side. Thankfully, the chiropractor is a consummate professional and put me at ease straight away as I brought him up to speed with everything that had happened since I last saw him (the list was long and he was awfully patient). Then it was time to have the treatment. I pulled off my boots with an unladylike ‘Oof’ and popped (heaved) myself on to the bench.

On my front. On my back. On my side. Probably the most exercise I’ve had in a while. Turn neck this way and that. Leg up, arm down. Why do I always imagine those mice from ‘Bagpuss’ when I’m lying there? You know, the ones that sing ‘we will fix it, we will make it new, new, new?’ Marginally better than ‘The Flumps’ I guess.

I felt like a new woman after the treatment and mentally kicked myself for leaving it so long. My body felt unfurled, stronger. There’s not an awful lot that can be done to make living with MS easier, but having regular chiropractic sessions certainly helps. It’s like a great big sigh of relief running through my whole body.

Finally, I stood up and asked, ‘Lovely! Am I normal now?’

With good grace, the chiropractor declined to answer…

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