Today I’ve been thinking about cycles. I’ll explain. This afternoon I did laundry. You know, put my dirty clothes in the washer, added soap and water, shut the lid, and waited while they went round and round. Then I put them in the dryer, shut the lid, and waited while they went round and round some more. And whereas all my clothes are now clean (except for the ones I’m wearing), next week they’ll be dirty again and I’ll have to start the whole process over once more.
Along these lines, last night for the first time in weeks I went to the gym. Thankfully, I hadn’t lost everything. Indeed, there were stretches and movements that were EASIER for me last night than the last time I went. (I attribute this to the progress I’ve made through upper cervical care.) Regardless, it still felt like starting over. Just like every time I get a sinus infection feels like starting over, and just like every blog I write feels like starting over. Because no matter how many words I’ve written in the last three years (a lot), each post begins with a blank page. My point being–no matter how many times you’ve been there before, every time is new.
This is what I mean by cycles. Our lives go round and round.
Along with thinking about cycles, I’ve also been thinking about circles. Perhaps these are the same thing. Either way, I’ve heard it said that although we think of our lives and time as progressing in straight lines, they aren’t. Rather, they’re circular, cyclical. This makes sense to me because so many things in the universe whirl. The earth rotates around its axis, the planets revolve around the sun, our washers and dryers spin. Likewise, so do our patterns and behaviors. This morning I woke up, got dressed, ate breakfast, drank coffee, and read a book. And whereas I’ve never done these things on January 16, 2020, before, I have done these things over and over (and over) again on countless other days. The logical conclusion being that we don’t start here (at a point on a line) and end there (at another point further down the line). Instead, we move in circles.
Effectively, we repeat ourselves.
The book I read today was a glorious juvenile fiction novel, When You Reach Me by Rebecca Stead. My friend Sydnie recommended it (thanks, Sydnie), and it’s about a boy named Marcus (oddly enough) who travels through time in order to save himself and others. At one point during the book, another character (the one who’s telling the story) is discussing time traveling with Marcus and says, “But THE MIDDLE can’t happen BEFORE THE BEGINNING.”
It can if time’s a circle, I thought. Circles don’t have beginnings, middles, or ends.
Well, sure enough, Marcus compares time to a diamond-encrusted ring, stating that we think TIME is moving but, in truth, WE ARE. Using the ring analogy, he suggests thinking of the fixed diamonds as the moments in our lives. Like, past, present, and future all exist AT ONCE. But since we can only experience or be aware of one moment, well, at a time, we perceive moments occurring separately, one before or after the other, and so on. Thus, as WE MOVE from point to point on the ring, we create in our minds (and only in our minds) the idea of time, the ideas of past and future.
How can you say that past and future are only ideas, Marcus (me Marcus, not book Marcus)?
Because search all you want, and you’ll never be able to find any proof of them. Sure, you can drag out your photo album and tell your stories, but when and where will those pictures and stories actually be happening?
Right here, right now.
I know this is a mind-bender.
Earlier I said that by going in cycles or circles we effectively repeat ourselves. Just now I looked up the origin of the word repeat, and it comes from two Latin words–re, meaning “back,” and petere, meaning “seek.” The idea that comes to my mind being “to go back” or “to seek again.” For me this is one of the nice things about life going round and round instead of in a straight line. It gives us a chance to start over (with a diet, with a workout routine, with a friend) as many times as we need to. Likewise, it gives us a chance to find ourselves, to circle back and save ourselves. Time machines aside, isn’t this what we’re doing when we re-evaluate our past, harmful judgments, when we forgive? Aren’t we rewriting history (and therefore its outcome and present-day effect) when we decide to love instead of hate another or any part of ourselves? Aren’t we starting over–anew?
This afternoon I saw my upper cervical care doctor. And whereas it took an hour to get there and over two hours to get back (because I kept stopping at antique stores), I was in and out of the office in five minutes. “You look good today,” the doctor said after checking a scan of my neck, “so I’m going to leave you alone.” That’s the deal, he operates by the–if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it–policy. Not that I’ve felt like a million bucks lately. Indeed, my back has been hurting and I’ve been fighting a sinus infection. And I told the doctor this. But he reminded me that just because you feel bad doesn’t mean your body isn’t healing. “You’ve been dealing with a lot of issues for a long time, and it’s just going to TAKE SOME TIME for your body to clean things up.”
Then he added, “For a while, you’ll experience remnants.”
Remnants, what a perfect word for those parts of our past (emotions, patterns, illnesses) that creep up every now and then and threaten to never go away. Yesterday I started painting the inside of some cabinets and cabinet drawers for a friend, and even after two coats of white, the ugly (dirty, filthy, rotten) brown that was there before still peeked out in places. And whereas I was tempted to think I’ll never get things how I want them, experience has taught me the value of persistence. So this evening I returned and applied a third coat. Now we’re talking, I thought as I rolled over the previous two layers of white. Hasta la vista, ugly (dirty, filthy, rotten) brown.
Persistence, that’s one of the things I’ve been thinking about tonight. The idea that if you just keep at something, eventually you’ll have a breakthrough (or a breakdown). Not that you should go barking up the wrong tree (you’re not gonna turn a homo straight, ladies). Pick your battles, know when you’re licked, and all that. But more and more I’m convinced that we don’t experience success in learning, dancing, remodeling, healing, and even praying simply because we quit trying. Because we give up. Because we think, This is going nowhere, and throw in the towel. Earlier this week I was thinking maybe I’ll just have to deal with sinus infections for the rest of my life, and my mom (randomly) mentioned a product I haven’t tried before, something she read about on her Facebook feed. Now, will it help? Hell if I know. It hasn’t even arrived yet. But the important thing is that I’ve decided to give it a whirl.
In this, there is hope.
Of course, all these things I’ve touched on–healing, persistence, and hope–require patience. Ah, there’s the rub. For anything that takes time (and what doesn’t?), we have to be willing to wait for it. Better said, we have to be willing to endure, to trust that things are going to work out. I think about the way a blade of grass can push itself through concrete, the way running water can make a rough stone smooth–given enough time. Most of us look at the mountains in our lives and think, Impossible. I could never get that thing to move. But not the rain. Knowing the power of persistence, it thinks, Just you wait, mountain. Give me enough time, and I’ll wear you down. Indeed, I’ll throw you into the sea. There won’t be a remnant left.
Last night after finally posting the blog at 3:30 in the morning I figured I’d fall right to sleep. Well, wouldn’t you know it, I got a burst of energy and was up until 5:30, scrolling on my phone, thinking, thinking, thinking, and talking to Jesus. You know, because he’s always awake. Anyway, I thought, Maybe I’m healing, maybe my sinus infection is going away. But damn if I didn’t wake up this morning still hacking and coughing. This being said, I have had more pep in my step today and haven’t thought about being sick nonstop. So who knows what’s happening?
Jesus, that’s who.
Six weeks ago I wrote about my first upper cervical care treatment, upper cervical care being concerned with your atlas, the topmost vertebrae in your spinal column. (Why be worried about your atlas, Marcus?) Because your brainstem, which is like Command Central for your body, runs THROUGH your atlas and can be negatively impacted if your atlas is misaligned. Make a circle with your thumb and index finger and think about running a straw or water hose through it. Then think about what would happen if you tilted your finger circle in such a way that it clamped down or put pressure on the straw or water hose. What would you have?
Problems, that’s what. Less “flow.”
All this to say that when my doctor took x-rays of my neck back in November (pictured below on the left), my atlas was tilted way wrong. “We want it to be at an angle of 8 to 10 degrees,” he said, “and yours is at 3.4. Additionally, we’d like your neck to be curved like a banana, but yours is straight as a board.”
“Yeah, it looks like a cucumber,” I said.
Anyway, for the last six weeks I’ve been being treated (or not treated if my doctor determines that my correction has “held”) once a week. Last week we took x-rays to see how I’m improving (or if I am), and today–today!–I found out the results (pictured below on the right). Y’all, in a nutshell, they were nothing short of miraculous. These were my doctor’s words, not mine. First, my atlas is now sitting at an angle of 10.5, almost perfect. Second, my cucumber neck looks more like a banana. “It’s almost textbook,” my doctor said. “I’d like to see your top curve just a bit more, but your bottom is superior. [I’ve been told that before, I thought.] But even if we don’t get any more improvement–and we should–I’m THRILLED with where you are.”
I just stood there with my mouth open, amazed, at the same time thinking about my sinus infection.
“To come this far in this short of time really is phenomenal,” he said. “It means your body is responding really well.”
My doctor said that because your nervous system directly influences or controls your immune system, it’s possible that somewhere down the line my body will be able to fight off sinus infections on its own. “Not that you’ll never get one,” he said, “but instead of it lasting a month, maybe it’ll only last a few days. Because when your nervous system is operating properly, it should be able to ADAPT [to fight off bacteria, etc.].” Then he added, “It’s just going to take some time to get there. Your brainstem has been under pressure for a long time, and it has a lot of repair work to do. But hang in there. Usually people start seeing really wonderful results around the three or four month mark.”
Okay, I thought. Hang in there, Marcus. We have a lot of repairing to do.
The four month mark, that’ll be about the time I’m wrapping up this blog project. Tonight’s blog is #1015 in a row, and that means that after tonight I only have 80 more posts to go, 1095 days being three solid years. I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately–THE END. And whereas part of me can’t wait to get there–like, I did it, now let’s drink a beer and take a nap–another part me of me, I know, will miss this. Because this is where I’ve found myself and where I continue to find myself. This is where I’ve learned to like me, my life, and life in general MORE. I guess it feels like these sweet moments are running out, and I’d just like to hold on a little longer.
Getting back to upper cervical care, even though I’ve ALREADY experienced such great results with it (my headaches are WAY better, my posture’s improved, my shoulder pain is all but gone), it still scares me. I think, What if I get to the three or four month mark and something still hasn’t healed? Ugh. We’re so programed to think, What if something goes WRONG? And yet more and more I’m learning to think, What if something goes right? What if I experience a(nother) miracle? What if THE END of the blog is THE BEGINNING of something ELSE that’s wonderful? I think of that book by Jules Verne and tell myself, Wait a minute. A lot can happen in 80 days. You can go around the world.
This afternoon I saw The Brainstem Wizard, my upper cervical care doctor who’s helping me “get my head on straight.” The idea being that when your atlas vertebrae, which supports your head, sits right, good health is most likely to follow. Conversely, when it doesn’t sit right, it can put pressure on your brainstem and cause all sorts of problems (because your brainstem and nervous system directly affect or influence almost everything in your body). All this to say that today my doctor determined (through the use of a handy dandy device that looks like Batman’s ray gun) that my nervous system was working fine on its own and, therefore, I didn’t need an adjustment this week.
Honestly, this was a little disappointing because I’ve had such good results with the last few adjustments. Plus, the last few days my head has hurt, my back has ached. But my doctor said, “That’s normal. Healing isn’t a straight line. It’s more like a wiggly line, full of ups and downs. Be patient. People normally hit the sweet spot around the two to four month mark. People think the adjustment is what heals them, but that’s not it–it’s your body. Give it time.”
“So just tough out the pain until my body decides to fix the problem?” I said.
“Yep,” he smiled. “That’s what you’ve been doing all this time anyway, right?”
I laughed. “Right.”
“Don’t be discouraged,” he said. “We’re fighting a long history of problems.”
Boy, did he say a mouthful or what? So often along the path of healing, in all its many forms, I’ve wanted instant results. Then, upon not getting them, I’ve gotten depressed, convinced that the universe in all its wonder doesn’t have an answer to my problem. Or worse, it doesn’t care. But the truth is the universe does care (a lot) and does have an answer. However, sometimes the answer we’re looking for doesn’t come fast precisely because of our long history of problems and, in many cases, because of our self-neglect. Think of it this way. The longer you go without cleaning your house, the longer it’s going to take to clean it. The more baggage you have, the longer it’s going to take to move somewhere.
This truth applies to your house, your body, your mind and emotions, and your relationships. At times I get frustrated with people in my life (who doesn’t?), but usually by the time my lid’s about to pop over something “big,” it’s only because I’ve let so many small things go without addressing them. Without addressing the relationship. Whenever this occurs, I remind myself to slow down, to breathe. I remind myself we’re ALL fighting a long history of problems. The last two days I’ve mentioned a YouTube commenter who read me the riot act for counting Rumba incorrectly (according to them), and this idea applies to people like him too. Like, I want him to straighten up and fly right, but–let’s get real–that’s probably not going to happen because he’s had an entire lifetime to become who he is.
Not that people can’t change. They can. But it takes time. And they don’t do it just because I (or you) want them to.
My therapist would add, “They have to really desire it. And they have to work their ass off.”
Which reminds me of a joke my aunt told me once. How many therapists does it take to change a lightbulb?
Only one, but the lightbulb has to really WANT to change.
I keep going back to this YouTube commenter not because it’s really a big deal to me, but because it represents things that are big deals. You know how we all have things we can’t get over. Like, I live with my parents, and they do things that drive me absolutely crazy. Things I can’t stand. Things I’ll probably miss when they’re gone (but not a minute sooner). And yes, I’m sure I do things that make them go bananas too. And then we all have THE BIG THINGS. The real dramas and traumas in our lives that really are difficult to let go of–a long history of problems–but that really NEED to be let go of. Because you can’t live your life collecting problems and baggage and expect to be happy.
What can you expect, Marcus?
Misery.
So I’ll say it again and again. It’s worth your time to clean things up.
In yesterday’s selfie I apparently left my bedroom door slightly open. Well, the damndest thing, earlier when I looked at the photo (I always look at yesterday’s post before I start today’s so I know what number I’m on), I thought, Crap, my door’s open, and immediately started out of my chair to close it. Even now when I look at the photo above (I’ve included it again for your convenience), I glance up at my actual door and am amazed that it’s shut. I think, Phew, it’s closed. But then I look at the picture again and think, Wait, it’s open. This is the power of an image, whether it’s a actual photo or a memory in your head. It’s seems real but it’s not.
What is real then?
Whatever’s right here, right now. For me, it’s a chair, a laptop, and a closed door. For you, maybe it’s an open door.
The problem with images, including memories, appearing real is that we get hung up on them. We tell our friends, “Some guy on YouTube said this shitty thing to me. My parents did this. My lover did that. The door is open.” A wise person will point out that everything is in the past and there’s no use wasting your present, vital life force keeping your past–your long history of problems–alive by holding on and looking backwards instead of forwards. “Look,” they’ll say, “the door is shut.”
“But it WAS open,” you’ll insist. “And this guy really did say something shitty. And these terrible things really did happen.”
“I know, sweetheart,” they’ll reply, “and the door is shut now.”
Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)
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Life is better when we're not in control. When we mentally leave room for anything to happen, anything can.
Last night my dad and I went to the gym. I started off doing my own thing in a back corner away from Dad but eventually ended up beside him, me on an elliptical and him on a recumbent stepper. And whereas I was really going to town, breathing hard and everything, he was like, moving at a snail’s pace. So when we both wrapped up, I said, “You’ve been on that machine for FIFTY minutes, and I’ve only been on mine for FIFTEEN. And yet you’re COMPLETELY dry and I’m DRENCHED in sweat.”
“That’s because I’m in so much better shape than you are,” he said.
Everyone’s a comedian.
This afternoon I saw The Brainstem Wizard, the upper cervical specialist who’s currently changing my life. Well, to be clear, my nervous system is changing my life. My doc is just helping my nervous system out by getting my “head on straight.” For years I’ve complained about headaches, shoulder pain, back pain, and posture problems. In only two weeks, all these things are dramatically better. This last week I didn’t have a single headache. My shoulders are less rounded. Today I told my doctor that after each treatment I experience different sensations in my body. The first time I cried. Today I felt blood rushing to my head. “That’s how it goes,” he said. “It’s whatever the body wants to work on.”
What I appreciate about this form of treatment is that it views the body as innately intelligent. For at least a decade I’ve tried multiple ways to get the tight muscles in my shoulders and hips to loosen up with minimal results. Now I know those muscles were tight for a reason; my head was too far forward, and my body was trying to stay in balance. Well, now that my head is in a better position, those muscles that have been tight for years are beginning to loosen up. Just like that. Finally. Mountains are moving.
I wish I could say that this were a one-and-done miracle, but it’s more like a twenty-nine-and-done miracle, since twenty-nine visits over a year is what my doc suggested and what I agreed to. Considering my list of health problems has been growing the last few years and that my doc says his job is to take items OFF that list, the time and money I’m having to put into this are well worth it.
It’s always worth it to invest in your health.
With my 1,000th blog quickly approaching, I’ve been thinking about how I’ve changed for the better thanks to both nearly three years of blogging and nearly six years of therapy. Mostly I’ve been thinking about how although I’ve had a number of especially healing nights at this computer and especially healing days in therapy, I can’t put my finger on exactly WHEN I changed. You know how you look at yourself in the mirror every day. Sure, you notice a gray hair there, a little extra fat there. But until you whip out last year’s photo or try to squeeze into last season’s jeans, it doesn’t click that something’s different than it used to be. You think, When did it happen?
When did it not?
By this last question I mean that we’re always in the process of change. When it comes to going to the gym, seeing a therapist, or writing a daily blog, it’s not the individual visits or posts that change us, it’s the process itself. This afternoon I realized that I’ve recently checked out half a dozen books from an online library. Well, not only do I not have the time to read them, I also don’t have the desire. And yet my inner completionist says I should. My inner good student says there’s something to learn. But the truth is that no one fact or book is going to change me. It’s what I do with that fact or book, how I choose to integrate it into my life that makes the difference.
Along these lines, I have a personal beef with self-help posts with titles like “Twelve Thing I learned in Therapy.” Not because I don’t love a good list (I love a good list), but because I’ve read others’ lists and books until I’m blue in the face and know that lists don’t change you. Memes don’t change you either. Because they’re just words. This blog is just words. Even if they’re true words, they have no power. You, however, have plenty of power. You have the ability to take an idea and animate it. You can read “exercise” or “be kind” or “be honest,” and you can breathe your life into these ideas. Better said, you can BECOME these ideas. This is how you change yourself, this is how you change the world, and this is how you move mountains. Not with one part of you, but with the entirety of your being.
Today I finished reading three books–Esoterism & Symbol by R. A. Schwaller de Lubicz, The Hanged Man: Psychotherapy and the Forces of Darkness by Sheldon Kopp, and The Power of Your Other Hand: A Course in Channeling the Inner Wisdom of the Right Brain by Lucia Capacchione. And whereas I only this week started the first two books, I started the third one over a year ago. Alas, it’s sat on my shelf collecting dust since last summer, just waiting for me to notice it. Well, today was the day. I can’t tell you how good it felt to finally be done. And yes, I know that I didn’t HAVE to finish it. But I genuinely wanted to, was actually interested in what it had to say.
I’ve talked about divine timing before, and I continue to be amazed by it. While reading the book I just mentioned, I noticed several things made sense to me that wouldn’t have made sense to me a year ago. Better said, several things STOOD OUT to me that wouldn’t have before. But they did stand out because of other books I’ve read over the past year. I kept thinking, Oh, there was a reason I didn’t pick you back up until today. I wasn’t ready for you yet.
This evening I had dinner with a friend (we’d planned on going out this weekend but at the last minute decided to go tonight) and told them of my recent and positive results with upper cervical care. When they asked HOW I found out about this healthcare modality, I credited a dancer friend (whom I honestly don’t talk to very often) who mentioned online their positive results with upper cervical care (that they received over ten years ago). And whereas I can’t say what’s going to happen or not happen over the next few months in terms of my healing, I can say that based on how much I’ve improved in the last two weeks (I truly feel like my innate healing powers have been given back to me), this whole setup is what I’ve been praying and waiting for.
By setup I mean–I don’t think any of this has been accidental.
Getting back to the idea of divine timing, I’m astounded by what all had to happen or not happen in order for me to find out about this form of treatment. Fifteen years ago my friend and I had to meet. Ten years ago my friend had to be sick and–God knows how–find her doctor. Earlier this year my friend and I had to reconnect. And then there’s what had to happen to get my doctor close enough that I could drive to him, since he used to be located much farther away, like the only other two people in the state who do what he does. Anyway, I could go on but won’t. I just keep thinking that answers are being lined up for us LONG before we even ask our questions. I just keep thinking that it doesn’t make much sense for me to try to tell the universe how to do its obviously complex job.
Because it’s doing just fine.
When I wasn’t reading today, I was tidying up my room. My therapist says when you’re feeling SCARCITY, one way to feel ABUNDANCE is to give something away. “It doesn’t have to be a lot,” she says. “It could be a dollar, a t-shirt, a hour of your time. Anything to get the energy flowing.” So that’s what I did, picked out stuff to donate–several shirts, a pair of shoes (the too-big ones I tore my ACL in), a handful of books I’ll either never read or never read again. Let someone else enjoy them, I thought. Then I went through my “paper pile” and threw this in the trash, filed that in a folder. Then I reorganized a few shelves in my closet. You know how one thing leads to another.
I wish I could tell you WHY I felt compelled to tidy up my room today or–as I’ve been doing recently–clean up my Facebook friends list. My therapist says any cleaning out makes room for other things to come along, so maybe that’s it. Maybe a part of me knows that this blog is coming to a close and–at the same time–my body is mending, so I just need more “room,” more health for whatever is coming next. But this is speculation. I can’t say why anything happened today, just like I can’t say why the sun rose this morning. I only know that it did, it was right on time, and it was perfect. More and more I know it’s not my job to know why. Rather, it’s my job to follow my inner guidance, that voice that says, “Check out that doctor. Read this book, not that one. Go to dinner now, not later.” It’s my job to be patient, trust that answers are coming, and enjoy the mystery of it all.
Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)
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You know when someone crosses a line. You may not want to admit it, but you know.
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)
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A friend’s laughter takes us backward and carries us forward simultaneously.
Okay, let’s just get right to it. This last weekend I felt like hell. Saturday I had a headache all day, and yesterday my neck hurt, my shoulder felt hot, and my lower back was locked up. This morning when I stumbled out of bed I felt every bit of my thirty-nine years and then some. And whereas I realize this could be read as complaining, it’s simply the truth.
These are the facts.
Whenever I feel this way (like a bag of ass), it’s extremely frustrating because despite my best efforts, not only are my physical problems continuing, they’re apparently getting worse. Month by month and year by year it seems there’s SOMETHING ELSE that’s not quite working right. Last summer my stomach started acting up. Since then, I haven’t been able to breathe as well. For a while now my ribs have felt constricted. Every time I breathe deeply, they hurt or my shoulder does. I’ve talked to multiple medical doctors, chiropractors, physical and massage therapists, and acupuncturists, but no one’s been able to help me significantly. The most recent medical doctor I asked about headaches said, “Posture has a lot to do with that.” And whereas I don’t disagree with that statement, no amount of posture correction techniques, including physical therapy exercises, yoga, pilates, stretching, bioenergectis, myofascial release, and chi kung, have changed my condition. I try and try to get my body to stand straight and “do right,” but I’m still in pain. One chiropractor–a doctor and self-professed “really smart” man–told me, “You’re an anomaly.”
He still took my money, of course.
I could go on and on about this topic and know I have in the past. Suffice it to say that it’s VERY DISHEARTENING to not only be faced with a physical challenge, but also to do everything you know to do to find an answer (talk to experts, read a ton of books, pray) and still come up with peanuts. Personally my biggest challenges have been sinus infections and headaches, and I know that they’ve often left me feeling quite hopeless. Indeed, there have been times that I’ve cried out to whoever’s listening up there for help and felt like I was totally ignored or–worse–completely unloved. Tylenol takes the edge off my headaches, but nothing takes the edge off this, the feeling like you’re all alone in the universe, that God’s left you twisting in the wind.
Recently I heard that a prayer heaven always answers is one that sounds like this. Dear God, I don’t care what it takes or how you turn my life upside down, but get me out of this pattern (of illness, of unhealthy relationships, etc.) Well, this is a bold prayer, of course, since you’re giving the gods permission to do what they want with your life, but–let’s face–they’re going to anyway. So you better bet I’ve been praying that prayer. Help, Lord, I want out.
I wish I could tell you that I’ve had unshakable faith that my prayer would be answered. And yes, I know that “no” and “not now” are valid answers from heaven. Sometimes we simply don’t get what we want. Sometimes, especially when it comes to physical problems, we don’t get relief until we die. This is something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately. Will I simply have to suffer with this until I kick the bucket? If so, am I strong enough to do that? Because one day of solid pain is bearable, but day after day for decades? I can’t imagine. That’s one positive thing that’s come out of my hurting these last few years. For the rest of my life, I’ll hold increased compassion for anyone who feels like they’re up against a wall and getting nowhere. If this is you, I understand. My heart goes out to you.
Also, hold on. Your story’s not over.
One thing I say a lot is that God works in mysterious ways. Well, get this shit. Several weeks ago I posted about ANOTHER sinus problem I was having, and a friend of mine (whom I met through dance nearly twenty years ago and only this year reconnected with) said she used to be in the same boat but that something called Upper Cervical Care had helped. “I don’t remember the last time I had an infection,” she said. Well, for all my talking to experts and reading constantly, I’d never heard of upper cervical care, so I started digging around and found a doctor in Northwest Arkansas–Dr. Jackson Chism–who’s one of the three people in the state who practices it.
While reading the reviews on Dr. Chism’s Facebook page, I began to cry. (This is usually my intuition’s way of letting me know that what I’m hearing is true.) People were saying they’d suffered from headaches, migraines, and fibromyalgia for years and had seen vast improvements if not complete remission of symptoms. Hopeful, I told myself I would go by his office the next time I was in Northwest Arkansas. However, weeks went by and I didn’t stop by or call. I do this sometimes, put off trying something that could help because I’ve tried SO MANY OTHER THINGS that haven’t helped and don’t want to be disappointed AGAIN. Because–if this doesn’t work, then what?
One thing I’ve been looking into and have mentioned here before is a posture and movement correction program I heard about online. Seriously, it seems really smart, really legit, the main idea being that a lot of our posture problems are caused from the BOTTOM UP. Like, we sit all day, which shortens our hip flexors, which tilts our pelvis, which causes our back to sway, which rounds our shoulders, juts our head forward, and so on. Anyway, if I had the money, I’d be on a plane tomorrow to work with one of the trainers who promotes this program. (No one does it around here.) This is part of my frustration. Like, I don’t have the money, don’t have the resources to take care of myself.
However.
Recently I’ve been going through a series by Caroline Myss and Jim Curtan about the symbology of The Wizard of Oz, and one thing it says is that Dorothy’s dog’s name in Latin (Toto) means “everything,” the idea being that from the start of her journey until its very end, Dorothy always has EVERYTHING she needs. When she clicks her heels together three times and teleports back to Kansas, Glinda the Good Witch tells her, “You could have done this all along.” So I’ve been reconsidering the notion that I need more money or need to leave the state in order to heal. I’ve been thinking, Maybe the answer’s right here.
Getting back to upper cervical care, a couple weeks ago I finally called Dr. Chism’s office. As “luck” would have it, not only was he taking new patients, but he was also running a special–x-rays with consultations before and after for under $40. “Let’s do it,” I said.
Last Monday was my appointment. I met Dr. Chism, he explained what he does (I’ll get to that part below), then he took x-rays, saying that he never makes adjustments without knowing what he’s working on first. “It’s possible I’ll look at your x-rays and determine that I can’t help you,” he said. “If that’s the case, we’d be wasting my time and yours to go any further.” Then we scheduled my next appointment.
For this afternoon.
For the last week I’ve been cautiously optimistic. Dr. Chism explained that at the base of our skull sits something called an atlas, the first “disc” of your spinal column. Then he put his thumb and first finger together and dropped a pen down the middle. “Through your atlas runs a bundle of nerves that control most everything else in your body,” he said. “But if your atlas shifts because of a car accident or something, it can pinch those nerves and cause all sorts of problems. [This is why upper cervical care can help sinus infections, apparently, because your nervous system influences your immune system.] Additionally, that shift can cause your head to lean one way or the other, and then your body will lift a shoulder or tilt a hip in order to correct the problem.” Still, despite this explanation making sense to me, again, I felt like crap all weekend and thought, I’m probably just throwing money down the drain. I’m broken. God doesn’t care, and no one can fix me.
I actually thought that this morning on my way to a meeting. But no kidding, just as I finished whining, I turned my head and noticed one of the many inspirational yard signs that have recently sprouted up around town. “Don’t give up,” it said. Then, when I arrived at Dr. Chism’s this afternoon, the lyrics of the first song that came on when I sat down in the waiting room said, “Don’t you give up on a miracle. You gotta speak to the impossible.” And whereas I’m normally turned off by offices that play “churchy” music, I took this as a direct encouragement from above.
Hold on. Your story’s not over.
The first thing Dr. Chism did with me today was go over my x-rays, which are just below. On the left you can see where the vertebrae in my neck are. The red curve, Dr. Chism explained, is where they’re supposed to be. “Ideally the top vertebrae is over the bottom one, and the ones in between curve like a banana,” he said. “Yours is straight as a board.” I said, “It feels stiff as a board.”
Other doctors have pointed out the fact that my vertebrae show signs of deterioration and bone spur calcification, but no one else has adequately explained why. “If your discs were deteriorating because of age [which other doctors have said], they’d all look the same because they’re the same age,” Dr. Chism said. “But some of yours are better than others.” Then he explained that my discs were showing signs of wear because my head is forward of my body, and my structure is trying desperately to support itself. “For every inch your head is forward, it adds ten pounds. So a ten pound head becomes a twenty or thirty pound one,” he said. “That’s why your body’s laying down new bone, in order to shore itself up.” Then he pointed to the base of my skull (where I experience the worst of my headaches) and said, “One consequence of all this is that these muscles will always be tight.”
Check.
Next we talked about my atlas, the vertebrae that’s the focus of upper cervical care. Apparently the ideal situation is for the atlas to be titled at 8 to 10 degrees, but Dr. Chism said mine was at 3.4. “The problem is that this pinches nerves and–worse–cuts off blood supply to the brain. So you might feet tired all the time [check] or begin to experience neurological symptoms [check: tremors].” We talked about the BOTTOM UP theory, but Dr. Chism said, “For you, I can definitely say the problem is TOP DOWN. Your body cares more about getting blood to your brain than it does about whether or not your hip flexors are short.”
When I asked WHY most of my issues show up on the right side of my body, Dr. Chism directed me the right x-ray, in which you can see a definite “kink” in my neck. My reaction to this and our ENTIRE conversation was consistent tears. It was like my body was confirming, “What this man’s saying is true. THIS is what we’ve been living with for years, for decades.”
“The good news,” Dr. Chism said, “is that THIS is what I do. You’ve got a lot going on, but it hasn’t progressed to the point where it’s irreversible [as would be the case if my bone spurs had actually FUSED my vertebrae together].” Then he asked if I WANTED a treatment today, and I said YES, HELL, YES. From there he walked me through getting on my knees, lying my head turned one way on a small table (about the height of an ottoman), and relaxing as much as possible. Then he felt for my atlas, placed one hand karate-chop style along the base of my skull, and with the other (I think) applied swift pressure. Inside, I heard what sounded like the cracking of a large walnut.
“I heard that,” Dr. Chism said. “They probably heard it next door.”
Y’all, that was it. Five seconds and it was over. When I got up (slowly), I was a little dizzy, and Dr. Chism walked me to another waiting room where I lay down with my head and knees supported for about 25 minutes. “Your body and nervous system need time to adjust to what just happened,” he said. Well, adjust they did. For the first–I don’t know–five to ten minutes, I cried. Then I laughed a lot. The entire time I could feel my head, neck, shoulders, hips, and legs shifting ever so slightly, tightening up, then relaxing. When Dr. Chism came back, my hands were tingling. “All of that’s normal,” he said. “It’s just your system changing.”
When I first arrived at Dr. Chism’s today, he used a particular tool to measure–I think–how the nervous system in my neck responds. I’m still not super clear on what this tool does. What I do know is that when I got there today, the graph this tool produced looked like a YELLOW S. “We want that line to be straight,” said Dr. Chism. “That’s what we’re working toward.” Well, after my adjustment and “sink in” period, my line was still curved but much straighter, as indicated by the TEAL LINE below. “It’s almost perfect,” Dr. Chism said. “For the first treatment, it’s awesome. You’re going to do really well.”
Before I left, Dr. Chism said, “If you wake up feeling awful again tomorrow, don’t be discouraged. This isn’t a one-and-done thing, and it’s going to take time to get you where we want you. [My thought: That’s okay. You don’t learn to cha cha in a day either.] Also, if you wake up feeling fabulous tomorrow, don’t get too excited. This is A PROCESS. Either way, you might be sore because as your body makes corrections, it’ll be using muscles it’s not used to using.” Then he gave me a dos-and-don’ts pamphlet, his staff took my payment and made me an appointment for next week, and I went on my merry way.
This evening I’ve continued to feel slight changes in my body, something Dr. Chism said could happen over the next two days. And whereas I’m still aware of tightness here and pain there, overall things are MUCH looser and mobile than they’ve been in a long time. Y’all, I’ve been cracked, whipped around, poked, prodded, needled, cupped, electrically stimulated, medicated, and colon cleansed. I’ve spent thousands of dollars trying to feel better and–time and time again–been frustrated. (To be clear, some things have helped, albeit not solved, my problems.) But then today happened. As I sit here now my shoulders aren’t as tight, my rib cage doesn’t hurt as much, and it’s easier to sit and stand up straight.
And here’s something–I’m happier.
As one of my chiropractors often says, things can turn on a dime.
Y’all, I realize I almost never discuss my healthcare providers by name but have gone on and on about Dr. Chism. This is simply because I am so very grateful for having met him. I don’t think it happened by accident. I also realize this is a VERY long post, one of my longest. Alas, this is a BIG subject for me both physically and emotionally, and it has a LONG history. I also want others to be as clear as possible about the process should they choose to explore upper cervical care for themselves. (It’s recommended for headaches, migraines, IBS, acid reflux, fibromyalgia, asthma, arthritis, and chronic fatigue, among other things). Still, if you skimmed down to the last paragraph, I don’t blame you. The main thing I want you to know is that more and more I believe 1) there’s always hope, 2) there’s always help, and 3) even though it may not seem like it at times, heaven is listening. We’re not in this alone. God works in mysterious ways. (Along these lines, sometimes not having enough money to do the things you want to do–and think would help you–IS an answer to prayer.) So don’t you give up. Whatever you’re going through, hold on.
Your story’s not over.
Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)
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You can't build a house, much less a life, from the outside-in. Rather, if you want something that's going to last, you have to start on the inside and work your way out, no matter how long it takes and how difficult it is.
