The girl-child (college freshman) physical therapist told me that today. I'd neglected going to the chiropractor for over two months. In part because I was busy taking care of my dd. Another part is that my chiropractor changed his business from straight up chiropractic into a Healthsource Chiropractic/Physical Therapy franchise. Changes, changes.
And I don't like them. So I avoided going. In particular, I' don't like going to the chiro, after having done whatever exercises I've done for the day (today it was an attempt at a new Tae Bo video...and no, I couldn't keep up, but yes, I did move in general aproximation of an imitation of Billy Blanks for the alloted amount of time and my body generally felt noodlish) and then having to do more exercises in front of a bunch of college kids who are hired to oversee us middle aged geriatric types with bad backs, in an open room for all to see.
So, on today's menu of pain was an L1 stretch. I was to lay on my stomach, and then push up with my hands, bending at the waist, to stretch the front of my L1. Niiiice, especially since THAT'S WHERE I WAS ALREADY HURTING!!!!! Every cell in my body was screaming that I was stretching it the wrong way!
After doing that horrid stretch three times, I was crying. And the guy was trying to get me to go on to the next thing. I asked him to give me a minute, while I tried to surreptitiously dry my tears. He asked me if I was OK. "NO, it HURT!". I was so mad. Ohhhh, I was mad. Then I, upset, had to ask WHY Dr. Mike had us doing these exercises when they hurt so much and felt like the opposite of what my body needs.
And that's when she said it: "Well, you see, he can do the adjustment, but you see, your muscles are crap and the adjustment won't stay. So we are trying to build up those muscles."
As if one extra exercise session per month is going to make a huge difference in how long the adjustment holds. HA!
And then I was informed that the doc was OUT and I could go home and put some ice on it. Doc had an emergency with one of his kids, but he'd be back soon. She must have seen the look on my rather annoyed face, because she ammended it to say I could wait and get an adjustment if I wanted. I waited.
Finally when I saw the doc, I told him what his college freshman employee had said to me, and that it was in no way OK, even if my muscles ARE crap. (Which they are). I get to call them that, she doesn't. She gets to use a nicer word, like "weak" or "underused" something. But not crap.
I thought I was OK, but then I ended up crying all the way home. The adjustment hurt, too.
And now I have a very boring and painful looking set of exercises to do in addition to all the exercise I'm already doing.
Since my muscles are crap.