Commit to the Process (Blog #978)

Last week I wrote about my amazing experience with upper cervical care, and this afternoon I had another successful appointment with my doctor, the man I’m starting to refer to as The Brainstem Wizard. And whereas I’ll spare you all the details of my adjustment (because it honestly was a lot like last week’s except I didn’t cry as much) and the free class about upper cervical care I attended later in the evening, I will say that I’m completely sold on the process.

Apparently upper cervical doctors concentrate solely on the top one or two vertebrae (the atlas and the axis, respectively) because these bones not only support our head, but also house and protect our brainstem, which controls virtually everything else in our bodies. The idea being that an injury (like a car accident or even being YANKED out of your mother’s vagina by a full-grown OBGYN) can easily misalign your upper cervical vertebrae (they’re free-floating by design because you need to be able to turn your head), put pressure on your brainstem, and wreak havoc. Tonight The Brainstem Wizard said that from the time we’re born until the time we croak our bodies are ALWAYS ready to heal, but if our brainstem can’t properly function, we’re fighting a losing battle. Think about a water hose that’s kinked up. You’ve got to take the pressure off.

A point that was really driven home to me today was that “this is a process” and “we’re in this for longterm results.” In other words, I’m going to have ups and downs. Indeed, there will be days that I feel like crap and my job will simply be to trust that my body knows what it’s doing. “Just because you have symptoms doesn’t mean you’re not healthy,” I was told, “and just because you’re symptom-free doesn’t mean you are.”

Something I appreciate about my visit today is that I was presented with a proposal or plan. Basically the doctor suggested I come once a week for four months, every other week for three months after that, and once a month for five months after that. In other words, he asked me to commit to a year–a year of driving two hours round trip, a year of paying for visits, a year of following his protocols (which are more than reasonable in my opinion but do include severely cutting back on coffee). “Based on what you have going on and my experiences, this is how long I think it will take,” he said.

Because I’ve seen more positive results in the last week with this guy than I have in the last two years with half a dozen others, I signed on the dotted line. Hell, it took five to ten years for me to REALLY learn how to dance, and I’ve been going to therapy for almost six. A year to get my body back on track (which I really think this process can help me do) is certainly worth it. And four months, which (I think) is the time frame during which most of the results will be realized, is nothing.

To be clear, this entire ordeal is not cheap. That being said, it’s not any more expensive and is actually less expensive than many forms of chiropractic, massage, and even dancing. It’s just not covered by my insurance. But I’ve said before that everything comes with a price, and this is a point I’d really like to drive home tonight. If you want anything in your life to improve (including your health, your relationships, and your Cha Cha), you better pony up the dough. Now, by “the dough” I’m not just talking about your money. I’m also talking about your time, mental and emotional resources, and even how your life works in general. I’ve been very clear about the fact that since I started therapy a number of important relationships in my life have dissolved. This is what I mean. On one level it’s TERRIFYING for me to heal emotionally and physically because I know that means MORE confrontations, MORE being honest. For example, if The Brainstem Wizard is able to cure me of my headaches, I can never again say, “Not tonight, dear. I have a migraine.” I’ll have to tell the truth instead.

I’d rather read a book than sleep with you.

For years I’ve sung the praises of my therapist and am now singing the praises of The Brainstem Wizard, and–I don’t know–only one in a hundred people say, “I’d love their number.” Honestly, I don’t think this lack of interest is because people don’t believe my good results or don’t want them for themselves. And, yes, I’m VERY open to the idea that people know what’s best for them and are able to find answers elsewhere. At the same time, I know that for every two dozen people who tell me they ADORE Dancing with the Stars and would LOVE to take lessons, only one person will. Because anything new (including learning to dance and being healthier) is scary. Plus, as I’ve said before, changing one thing (even for the better) means changing everything.

And who wants to do that?

More and more, I do. Not because I’m gunning to have my life turned upside down, but because I’m finally figuring out that having my life turned upside down is the only way to really get anywhere, the only way to really get any peace. So this continues to be my advice. If you’re suffering, get some good help–and don’t shit yourself about whether or not something is working. If it’s been six months and you’re not improving, try something else. Just don’t give up. When you find something that does work, commit to the process. Go all in. Jump feet first. Put in your money and your time. Any investment in yourself will pay off big, I promise.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

"Miracles happen."

On Being Committed (Blog #592)

It’s 8:00 in the evening, and it’s been dark outside since 4:30. What the actual hell? I feel like it’s midnight. I’m SO TIRED. No kidding, I’m about to pass out hibernation style. Like for the entire winter.

Somebody wake me up when it’s March!

Earlier my parents, my aunt, and I went out for dinner at–get this–3:45 so we could get the senior citizen discount at Furr’s Super Buffet. It’s sexy, I know. Y’all, I “sort of” controlled myself with all the food options, but still managed to scarf down a salad, two full plates of mashed this and cheesy that, and a dessert. My insulin was like, “What do you think I am–a miracle worker?!”

Hum. Insulin. Maybe that’s why I’m so sleepy.

Anyway, this was honestly the highlight of my day. Meatloaf that’s been keep warm under a lightbulb.

Before we went out to eat, I worked more on sorting old photos, and I’m continually amazed that in many cases I can’t put my finger on what year something happened. Today I tried to organize photos of when our old swing dance group, The Big Bad Jittacats, performed on The Dr. Pepper Stage at the fairgrounds. Eventually, I gave up on about twenty-five percent of the photos, since we were out there SO MANY TIMES and everything just blends together like–I don’t know–a casserole does in your mouth.

Maybe from this point forward I should start wearing a different uniform each year. Then when I look back at photos I’ll know–Oh yes, 2018, the year of yellow spandex and red suspenders.

Or whatever.

Currently I’m blogging on my phone because my internet (my hotspot) drags ass during the afternoon and early evening hours. I assume because everyone else is on the network. Last night while I was writing at three in the morning, it wasn’t a problem. Unless you consider going to bed just before sunrise a problem, which I’m starting to. Anyway, so this is a compromise–phone blogging now in exchange for a decent night’s rest later.

Am I at five hundred words yet? That’s my goal for tonight. Then I can get ready for bed and not feel like I “have” to stay up forever.

Just before I passed out last night about 4:45, a friend from overseas messaged me online and said, “Are you awake?!” Then when I said yes because of the blog, they said, “I admire your commitment.” To which I said, “Most days I feel like I should BE committed.”

Like to an institution.

Along these lines, my therapist asked recently if I felt COMMITTED to the blog or OBLIGATED to the blog. After pausing to consider the difference between the two things, I said, “I’m committed.” This was apparently the right answer, since I got a Tootsie Roll when our session was over.

I’m not sure why I bring this up now, other than to say I think it’s a good thing to ponder if you’re thinking of taking on a big project, whether that’s a creative endeavor like writing a blog or a personal one like going to the gym or getting married. Because if you feel obligated to whatever it is, chances are it won’t last. Either that or you won’t (without becoming resentful). But if you feel committed to your idea/goal/person, well that’s a different matter. Not that it’s a guarantee of success, of course, but at least it’s a better starting point.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Getting comfortable in your own skin takes time.

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