Poo Bones

So I finally sucked it up and went to my chiropractor/instructor last week after my head suddenly began to feel like a bowling ball on a popsicle-stick and I literally would wobble sometimes when I walked because my equilibrium was that off.

I was desperate.

Needless to say, I am still afraid of shitting myself.

I also have a more generalized fear of the actual bone-adjustment thrust, not because it hurts and I am a baby when it comes to pain, but moreso because it grosses me out. It's like *sudden pressure* and KACHUNK WAHTHUMP your bones jam into some different way of sitting. That and when he adjusts my neck, I have a brief moment of skipped heartbeat where I think to myself, Oh my god, this is like in that one horror movie where the bad guy breaks the victim's neck with his bare hands with just one minor twist of the neck.

That thought is enough to send a bit of pee trickling down my thigh.

I hope my brain gets adjusted to getting adjusted (buddum chii) and stops being so nervous for hours ahead of time as it's gonna be a twice a week thing for a while and I'm gonna have a fricking heart attack soon if I keep it up.

Despite all my trepidation, I must say, I have never felt so damn solid and strong and ass-whooping posturized as I did last Thursday. I actually had to adjust my rearview mirror up a few inches higher when I got into my car, that's how much the damn adjustment actually effected my posture. And I felt like fricking post-sex melty goodness for a few hours afterwards. Glory be.

Having my instructor as a chiropractor makes me feel suddenly old though--he's less than 2 years older than me, so everytime we're in any sort of clinical environment, I find myself wanting to shout, "Stop playing! We could've played doctor together in my sandbox when we were like five! So stop pretending you know what the hell you're doing!"

I fear, however, that were I actually to shout it, that would be the precise moment he'd decide to send a nice squirty stream of stink down the inside of my leg.