I first started seeing a chiropractor after I fell on my friend’s sailboat and sprained my shoulder. My parents had been seeing this guy for a while and raved about it. When I went, he helped not only with my shoulder but also my long-owwie foot, which has no glamorous sailboat back story. And can I just say? The word “chiropractic” sounds really odd to me and I don’t like using it. But we all knew I was weird, so, you know. Whatever.
At the end of last year I had money left in my health savings account — oh and a back and hip that hurt — so I went to my personal trainer’s chiropractor. She’s awesome! She’s not even 5 feet tall and has worked miracles for me. She’s also a really interesting woman, and interested in her patients, too: She one day took the time to CALL a retired veterinary friend DURING our session for a second opinion about Sugar’s bladder problems.
Anyway, I hadn’t been back for a month or so because I was feeling good. But after the crash I’ve had a lot of pain so I went back to see her today. She used the ultrasound for all of the hip/groin problems (looks like the bike seat did a real bruise/pull number on the ol’ groin) and then I tried to maintain composure while my little chiropractor flung my leg over her shoulder, grabbed my thigh, and started rolling my leg around in its hip socket. Hopefully I’ll be back on the bike soon, but I’m probably going to have to do a “30 AFTER 30” bike-a-day challenge.
Maybe you’ll have a better understanding of how awesome my chiropractor is if I show you a picture of her. Here you go: