Of chiropractors and motor mechanics

Visits to the chiropractor come and go. This time followed a lower back sprain from kiteboarding. He did all the usual things: checked me out, did some massaging and ended up with the traditional wrench that extracted a satisfying vertebral click. Initially he told some interesting stories, including a fascinating one about the Ryukyu Islanders, whose approach to old age is to become increasingly youthful in attitude. This is not the fabled 7 ages of man where you end up mewling and puking like a baby but an approach to life that becomes increasingly playful and joyful. Thereafter, though, it went pear-shaped, as he unveiled a string of extremely unappetising stories about people with chronic scoliosis or nervous disorders, a woman's corpse with huge layers of fat exposed and other unwanted anecdotes, some of which would be repeated in later sessions. When you are face down on the bench it's hard to converse but I tried to discourage these tales from the war front, with little success. During this period of treatment I was actively self-medicating, doing stretches several times a day. I asked him for exercise recommendations to supplement my own and he reluctantly produced some diagrams which had his name on top but were in fact virtually straight off Google. At the end of each session he was quick to sit down and write up the next appointment, claiming this was a complicated, long-term spinal project which needed regular and frequent attention. He would also drop names like Gary Player and Bobby Locke (two great SA golfers, who had used his services in the past). But he would never actually give me his current diagnosis of my condition. He simply wouldn't commit himself as to how I was progressing in his eyes. As I was self-medicating, I was also self-diagnosing and could feel the improvement as I went along. So increasingly I became aware that I was actually just a part of his annuity stream, cloaked in this mystical process, which he was never able to fully explain or link up to my progress. When you are young you believe that doctors know everything and invest in them all your trust but as you get older you realise that many are also subject to moral hazard, not unlike motor mechanics.