Turning the pages of any magazine, there are countless models who I'd like to talk to. (Some magazines more than others...) Why? Well isn't it obvious? They are such great salespeople and represent their respective brands with such conviction and in such believable ways. I'd really like to talk to them to find out how they got to be so good at it. It's a tough business and it would be meaningful for me to have mentors and role models. Even their job title contains the word model itself! And of course their breasts and perfectly silhouetted figures speak volumes to me - but those are secondary for sure.
So basically to give you the short story of what I'm getting at...I have had neck/back pain for a bunch of years. I think it began in the early '00s. I'm not sure how it started exactly, but I do recall a particularly unpleasant episode of 'bad pain,' for lack of a better phrase. (If you do have a better phrase, please chime in.) I woke up one morning to go play tennis in Morningside Heights with my good friend Evan. Every time I swung my racket I would have such excruciating pain travel all throughout my body. I just wasn't sure what was going on. So we stopped playing a bit early; I think I might have won regardless. When I woke up that morning my neck was pretty sore and uncomfortable. After tennis, it was way worse, which by the way is not listed as a condition in the Physician's Desk Reference Handbook. I had some sort of muscle spasm and my neck's range of motion was drastically limited. I could barely move and every time I did I experienced a tremendous amount of discomfort. Adjectives aside, it sucked.
I think the root of the continuous years of neck pain can ultimately be blamed on an ex-girlfriend of mine. Not that it was her fault, unless a conspiracy about my neck was concocted, but Julie got me in the habit of sleeping with two pillows under my head. That's quite a feat, to give her due credit. This is coming from a guy who used to sleep on a pillow so thin my friends at camp would refer to it as a 'feather' or 'sheet.' Admittedly, it really didn't consist of much. But maybe it was my version of a stuffed animal or blanky that I never had. In any case, picture my neck level with my body when using the pillow I had grown accustomed to. With two over-stuffed pillows, I think my neck was crooning far beyond its intended croon capacity. And there it began.
I went to work one day and felt like Frankenstein. (As an aside, ask me to do a rendition of Phil Hartman's SNL Frankenstein character. I think I have the 'fire....baaaaad!' down pretty well.) I couldn't move and resorted to slugging around like the green monster with bolts in his neck. I felt like I had bolts, but none were present after double-checking. So I left work and went to get what I refer to as a medical massage, but really minus the medical science behind it. Yes! You guessed right - I took my first trip to a doctor of chiropractic. Perhaps my doubts about that field begin with questioning that title. It doesn't even sound like a complete word...
After a few treatments at a couple of different chiropractors in the East Village, I threw in the towel and decided I was ok. Or at least that they were not. In Chicago a few years later I ended up having another bad spasm, which led to an even worse decision. I went to a local chiropractor on the North Shore. After dropping me off for my appointment, my mom went to fill her car with gas. She was called back to the office before even getting to the gas station and arrived to see emergency personnel from the Winnetka Fire Department at my service. The 'doctor' seemed more freaked out than anyone. In the brief period when mommy left my Frankenstein'd side, the chiro managed to affix electrodes on various parts of my neck, back and chest and began the electrical stimulation of my muscles. The only thing that was stimulated was my vegas nerve (think something in the nervous system, don't think my wild side) which was affected so negatively that it rendered me unconscious. I woke up nauseous, unaware and weak in a cold sweat with this guy nervously hovering in front of me; he had put a pen in between my teeth to keep me from clenching down and biting my tongue. The paramedics loaded me up into their company-issue vehicle against my protest - after regaining my consciousness and having some water I really felt fine, aside from my neck pain. In the back of the ambulance they had their newbie recruit try to find my vein. Usually my veins are ripe for needles, but having been unconscious my blood pressure was a tad lower than usual and he was almost digging for China...or my grave, whichever came first. Uncomfortable part of my day, part two. After some tests in the ER, they said I was fine. "What about my neck pain!?" I asked eagerly. I guess only one symptom can be treated per visit.
That episode brings us to today, still experiencing frequent pain. The only thing that seems to help it is going to the gym. Back in the beginning of June I kicked off my summer festival attendance at the Belmont-Sheffield Music Fest. Wow - what a great time. Partially because of the no-notice downpour, maybe out of slight curiosity, I stopped by to visit a chiropractic booth and signed up for some stupid deal to pay them $20 for a consultation, x-rays and a post-x-ray consultation and summary. I don't know why. Well it's actually a great deal. But so is bridge jumping for only $5. Today was the follow-up consultation, after putting it off for over a month. Clarification: the doctor canceled on me previously without notice - as in when I arrived to the appointment. I told the receptionist that I have a 24-hour notice required or there is a $50 cancellation fee. Since he said that they don't do that for their patients, I decided to be courteous and waived mine as well.
After relaying the above story about being knocked out, he said that I might have been knocked out regardless even without the muscle stim. Riiiiight. Like just by walking my Frankenstein'd self down the street and going my merry way I might have fallen unconscious. I felt like I was arguing with a girlfriend and there was no concern for reality and everything was based on theoreticals. He slyly added that, though he could definitely understand not wanting to proceed, since I was only unconscious once from this treatment I should probably do it again because it wouldn't happen again. I wish I could have just broken up with him right then and there. What b.s.
He went on to explain a chart in his office that I read while waiting. After hearing about how the curvature of my spine is not good and that there is deterioration on several of my vertebrae and discs, I knew I needed a second opinion. Truthfully, I was hesitant from the get-go and plan to consult with a few medical specialists before moving forward with anything. So this chart was basically a summary of what will happen to you if you do not sign up for chiropractic care. Right away. He continued and told me yada yada about how things were misaligned, out of whack and cause for concern. After listening to all of this you would think that your body was just mis-formed in Play-Doh. Honestly - this guy could have convinced a knowledgeable person that your solar plexis is inebriated. Thankfully I was a bit more skeptical. The clincher is that in order to prevent further decay into the 'level whatever danger zone' I would have to be a regular (read: very regular) patient of his for 6-8 months at least. Nice guy, but the right thing to do for your body shouldn't be based on a sales pitch. Albeit one that employs scare tactics.
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