Thursday, May 29, 2014

Groundhog Day - A Vicious Cycle

You wake up in the morning, groggy and feeling as though the previous seven hours spent sleeping never really happened.  Clearly, you slept.  The clock read “11:03 P.M.” right before you zonked out and you opened your eyes to “6:59 A.M.”  It doesn’t feel like it, though.  You push yourself out of bed and immediately notice that you’re leaning to one side.  Looking down at your feet, your eyes focus in as if staring at your knees, ankles, and toes might somehow reestablish a sense of normalcy during this all-too-common occurrence of seeming off balance.  Half stumbling and half walking, you maneuver yourself to the bathroom and flip on the light.  Once upon a time, this would have been when you sat down to eliminate the waste processed through your digestive tract from yesterday, but it has been a long time since that was the case.  Despite that gurgling sound in the pit of your stomach that suggests that a few moments on the porcelain God would be just what the doctor ordered, you’ve been through this routine enough to realize that nothing will happen if you do and that there are other things that have taken precedent in the morning routine.  

Two hours later, you are on your way to see what the day brings.  There’s that uncomfortable moment when you get into the car, your joints crackling as if you just sat down on bubble wrap.  The same thing happens when you get out of the car a bit later.  It always happens when you get in the car.  Speaking of the car, remember when you could turn your head so easily to check the blind spot over your right shoulder?  That online search for how “German engineers suggest using car mirrors” was quite helpful, you may recall.  In the future, you find out that using your mirrors in the manner recommended by BMW is actually a good thing, but it would have been nice to choose to do it that way rather than have to out of necessity.  Oh well.  Once the morning sluggishness finally wears off thanks to that third cup of coffee – or was it an energy drink today?  Memory isn’t what it used to be – you start your list of daily tasks.  You have to carefully concentrate on one thing at a time to avoid your mind traveling in a million different directions.  Did you put the clothes in the dryer?  That thing from the national board is due this week, right?  The dryer wasn’t left on, was it?  You never like leaving it on while you’re gone (just in case).  The meeting at 11:30.  Did you prepare?  You’ve got ample prep time, so you should be fine.  Whew, it’s been a long day already and it’s not even lunch time.
Lunch brings with it a set of challenges all its own.  You heart desires the Southwest chicken sandwich, but you know that eating something with a kick to it will make the afternoon a chore.  After all, it’s hard to get any work done when you’re constantly taking breaks.  You get that sort of nausea with it, too.  So, it’ll be the salad and soup again for the millionth time – “Just make sure that there’s no garlic in it” you call to the waiter, all the while thinking in the back of your mind how annoying it is to have to be so picky when you like so many things.  It’d be nice to have a “cheater day” and vary up the diet a bit.  The 11:30 presentation took a lot out of you and a dull ache has settled in the back of your head.  You barely notice it; it’s par for the course, at this point.  As the day continues, the ache spreads.  The more that you are on your feet, the greater the difficulty that you experience.  You don’t work out anymore – it hurts you too much to do so – but at the end of every day, you feel like you just worked out for the first time in two years.  As abnormal as it is, it has become normal for you, but - unbeknownst to you – it makes you very difficult to be around.  By dinner time, the day has worn you out and your patience has been reduced to nil.  Those close to you just assume that “it’s who you are, now” since the doctors said everything was normal.  You long since quit trying to find out why you feel and act the way that you do.  You guess that it’s just what getting older is like. 
You’ve become a human doing instead of a human being.  You exist more so than live.  Like the movie Groundhog Day, in which Bill Murray awakes to the same February morning repeatedly, life has become an endless loop of days you’re just getting through.  
I’ve met so many people in my career that would relate to the above.  I know that I sure relate to it.  That was me.  Upper Cervical Care gave me my life back and it took years of self reflection to find out when I actually lost it, ultimately realizing that it was gradual and cumulative.  By the time that I learned about Upper Cervical, I had developed a quiet assumption that I was never going to get better and had begun going through the motions of living.  Your level of health simply doesn’t always reflect what it says on some lab test.  Thankfully, I was fortunate enough to have the bar raised for what I should expect from my life.  I sincerely hope that you are allowing us to help you raise that bar for your life.  Too many of us think that scenarios similar to the above are OK.  They’re not.  We should all want more and go get more from life…and that begins with your health.  
The Power of Upper Cervical documentary presentation – Tuesday, June 17th at 6:30PM
“You people will know…soon” states Dr. Drew Hall in the final line of Storyville Studios acclaimed documentary, The Power of Upper Cervical.  The fact of the matter is that most people don’t know about Upper Cervical Care.  This documentary is an excellent way for the uninformed to become informed.  Across the board, our collective health is suffering because we simply don’t understand the basics for what it takes to be healthy.  Like one of the patients in the movie says, “I didn’t know. I didn’t know any different.”  This film will teach you and your loved ones the “difference” that Upper Cervical Care can make.  Please join us!  Seating is limited, so please RSVP via email or by calling the office.
Thinking good things for all of you,

Dr. Chad

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