I Was a Sobbing 90-year-old

I didn't think I was going to have anything to share today. Boy, was I wrong. 

 

I WAS A SOBBING 90-YEAR-OLD TODAY.

 

First a short post-fast update: I broke my 74-hour fast two nights ago (the goal was 84 hours, 3.5 days). Yesterday, weak and unsteady. Today the same until this evening. I seem to feel better this evening, but couldn't stand too long making my next giant salad--I made it in two sessions with couch time in between. Still, an improvement. Good. Michael fasted for 96 hours. Over-achiever.

 

Michael had emailed our chiropractor a few days ago telling him of my sitch and asked what he thought. My doctor had said I shouldn't go to the chiro anymore now that I know I have osteoporosis. The chiropractor felt he could help me and encouraged us to come. We went today. I was still weak and unsteady as mentioned above. I held on to Michael walking anywhere, he helped me in and out of the car, etc. Besides the fact that he drives me everywhere, he wanted to be there to make SURE the chiro was careful with my T4 (which is between the shoulder blades), and T12 (lower). It's nice to travel with a bodyguard. And a hot one.

 

I was already teary in the waiting room, didn't know why. (I notice that when I feel weak or achy, it makes me a little emotional. And I was definitely weak.) Then in the exam room I started crying a little more. (I was lying down the whole time, not wanting to waste my energy on being upright.) My tender bodyguard was right there, doing and saying all the right things to comfort me. He grabbed two tissues, gave me one and put the other in his pocket for when I needed it. I had decided in advance that I didn't want a warm-up person working on me this time--only Dr. Athens was going to touch me. Hubby suggested to have the warm-up person just rub my legs. Good thinking, why not. He suggested the doctor was taking extra long to come in because he was in the other room looking up where the T4 and T12 are--haha! Athens finally came in, not sending in a warm-up person. I guess he didn't want anyone else touching me either. He's good. I commented on that.

 

Usually he's so high-speed, "Hi, how ya doin'? Lie down. *crack crack* Okay, get up, walk around, feel better? See you in six weeks." Not today. He was slow and very gentle. He got other patients out of the way so he could spend more time with us. We talked for a minute, then he had me get in a position on my side and gently twisted me to see if I was okay like that, yes, I was. He gently cracked me. He did that on both sides. Then asked me to sit up facing away from him. I did, but felt very light-headed. I asked Michael to come by me, he jumped right over. Athens was gentle again, doing something with my upper back or neck, I forgot. I think I cried a little after because I was scared. But it turned out just fine. (It's a little like my relationship with the Lord--something comes along, I'm really scared, but I just have to relax and TOTALLY TRUST HIM, and everything turns out okay.) Then Michael helped me into the chair so the doc could crack my neck. This part always makes me laugh because he tells me to do something, like move my right foot forward, and suddenly *crack!* I know what he's doing every time, but I do what he says, and bammo, it's over and I'm laughing! This time, though, that was the only jovial moment in our visit. (See the video.) At some point I really started crying. He instructed Michael to bring me back in two weeks, and this and that, and breathe in through your nose and out your mouth, because you get more *nitric something and helps calm you, and more this and that, and told us to take the time we needed in the room and excused himself. Michael can tell when I check out and remembers for me what the doctor says.

 

After he left the room, I really started crying. A lot. Sobbing. Feeling light-headed, I knelt on the floor next to the examining table, lying over it. I put a pillow I'd brought under my head. I was hoping anyone outside the door couldn't hear me, but this needed to come out. I continued crying, and I pushed out as much as I could. We both knew this was good for me in some way and I didn't hold back. It was not time to be brave and try to stuff it back in. Besides, that was impossible. The river was flowing right over the dam wall. (Did I just swear? How about the wall of the dam? Or just the dam.) I thought drinking some water might help my light-headedness so M went and got me two small paper cups-full. With the sobbing and big breathing and weakness, they were hard to drink right away. I finally got them down. After a few minutes, I think, it was uncomfortable being on the floor so M helped me back into the chair, with him standing behind me to rest my head on. While on the floor and now in the chair I was getting the shivers. They came in waves. I wasn't cold. I wanted to get home, but even with M helping me to the car, I wasn't really sure I could make it. He was able to find a wheel chair to borrow. While he was gone I put my feet up against the exam table to ensure I wouldn't fall over. He helped me into the wheel chair holding both of my hands. I thought I would walk my feet along the floor as it moved, but I knew right away that was too much work. He flipped down the footie things for me. He warned me the wheels were old and bumpy. Doesn't matter, let's go. On our way out the door he told the receptionist over his should he'd be back in a minute. Out to the parking lot and we could hear loud classical music playing. There was a guy, standing next to his car, door open with very loud classical music playing. What? M stared him down, but the guy stared right back. M put me in the car but left the door open since it was toasty in there. He dashed back in to return the wheel chair. I let the crying rip again. Plus I didn't have the bandwidth for the annoying guy so that added to it. Maybe that was a good thing, actually, even though it was obnoxious. Michael came back quickly and put on my seat belt. He closed the doors but took too long to find his car key which neither of us realized was in my hand since I was busy wailing. It was too hot, "Please open your door!" He started the car with my key, we got the windows down, then I realized his key was in my hand. "Take it, please, so I don't drop it!"

 

We drove the half mile down the street to our apartment. He helped me, crying and shaking, into bed, pillows just right. Then he went out to move the car to it's parking place. He came back in and I asked him to do two things. Please put the fabric rice bag in the microwave for four minutes. While that's in there, please add some protein powder to one of our juices and bring that in in my metal drinking cup with it's lid and straw. He did that. I slowly sipped the veggie juice while starting my calm-down. I'm in bed, the seeming-crisis was behind me and now I can start recovering. He brought the hot rice bag in and put it at my feet. It was immediately soothing, and helped the shaking to subside. I sipped the juice to get hydration and nutrients in there. Then, I remembered I had a Spotify account so I played my soothing R&B playlist on the TV in our room. Those three things begat a big, albeit slow, change. As I lay there, I was realizing that the rice bag was from a sister at church. She brought it, and two neck pillows she made, over last week. The metal cup was from a another sister at church. I didn't think I'd use it much when I got it, but it's my daily cup now since I'm drinking alkaline water which shouldn't see the light. The bent straw it came with was perfect, I didn't have to lift my head off the pillow to sip. And the Spotify account was just gifted to me this week from three sisters at church. At this very moment, five friends were helping me though something difficult. Their simple Christ-like service, giving what they could give, was exactly what I needed. I thanked Heavenly Father in my mind for these tender mercies and so many others on my journey.

 

After a couple of hours I was feeling so much better. Still weak and unsteady when I got up, but more emotionally stable, like my regular self. Later in the evening my legs weren't very wobbly at all and my emotions were good. 

 

Hoo boy, what an experience. The only other time I felt emotional at a chiropractor was the first time I ever got adjusted which was many years ago. I sat up afterward and started to bawl, not knowing why. I know this is a common occurrence--maybe you've experienced it. I didn't expect it to happen again. What emotions and trauma could be built up in my tissues (if that's really what happens) since I was adjusted just two months ago. Ohhhhh, right. Maybe it's my new journey, maybe not. Can't really be sure. I just know it's all fascinating, this mortal body thing!

 

Michael took some video and photos today. I wanted a photo of me and Dr. Athens, but at the end of the appointment I didn't feel presentable. Then decided, what the heck, this is real life, right? Later when I saw the photos, I was really surprised at how old I looked in the photo with the doctor. Not saying it's a bad thing at all, just very interesting. I feel like I know what I'll look like in 30 years.

 

I told Dr. Athens he should look at my blog because there's a story about him. He will. It's the one about what NOT to say to a chiropractor, haha!

 

*Nitric oxide (NO) is released in the nasal airways in humans. During inspiration through the nose this NO will follow the airstream to the lower airways and the lungs. Nasally derived NO has been shown to increase arterial oxygen tension and reduce pulmonary vascular resistance, thereby acting as an airborne messenger.