The witch doctor

Yesterday Rich came with me to see the witch doctor. Ok, fine, his name is Dr. Thompson and he's a doctor of chiropractic. But more importantly he practices applied kinesiology, hence the witch doctor term of endearment. I first discovered the witch doctor through Gary my therapist. I was complaining about my right wrist and its supposed tendonitis or carpel tunnel. The orthopedist had just slapped a cast on it and called me cured but nothing was actually better. The chiropractor I saw was a little better but couldn't fix my wrist and just told me I needed to rest it or stop holding my son. Fat chance of either of those happening.

Gary said he had been seeing this guy and I might like him. So I made an appointment and after hunting around a bit Dr. Thompson fixed my wrist by popping my elbow! He also fixed my "jimmy leg" (restless leg syndrome) and a variety of other random things. Oh, he said I had a dairy allergy but then corrected it. And he asked me to take out my belly ring because it was blocking my energy flow. All I know is my wrist felt immediately better and I therefore loved this dude. We had several talks about how nerves work in your body and how food affects your health. I know it all sounds crazy but this guy is amazingly smart and gets fantastic results in his patients. He may be a witch doctor, but he's my witch doctor and I love him to pieces.

I've been doing fine overall but lately my wrist started hurting again as Ian insists that I carry all 42 pounds of him around. I wanted to make an appointment with the witch doctor, but I also wondered if he might have some insight on Rich to see if he could help him at all. Gary suggested that the witch doctor might have some products that could help with cell health and healing. I asked Rich to come with me and he loves me so he agreed.

We went out to his home office and I went first. Bam! My elbow popped like a firecracker going off and I felt worlds better. He also thinks he might have made my jimmy leg better in that my right hip is related to something inside my mouth. The witch doctor actually pressed on the roof of my mouth for about 30 seconds and it felt better. I have a recurring sore spot that dentists have just blown off, but I swear it feels like a tooth in the middle of my head. The witch doctor says that something is out of place up there.

After all that it was Rich's turn. The witch doctor did an "injury reset" where he corrected a lot of nerve mis-signals from various injuries. He worked on Rich's broken shoulder from the Army, his sprained ankle from high school football, his broken pinky from playing kickball, his torn ACL and MCL, his arthritis in his hands, his broken nose from volleyball, and his prostatitis. Rich was dubious at best and kept shooting me these glances like "do you believe this guy?!" The witch doctor poked and prodded and slapped and massaged and pulled and pushed. At one point Rich was convinced he was going to get out a ceremonial headdress but it was just a reference sheet on how to hold his hands.

We left with A-I enzyme to help with cell healing, cranberry pills for urinary health and some other random stuff to help with Rich's sensitivity to nightshade foods (which causes his arthritis in his hands). And once we were out in the driveway and out of ear shot of the witch doctor, Rich could truly give me his "seriously? What the hell just happened to me?!" face so that I laughed so hard I wasn't sure I could drive.

But today he took his A-I enzyme pills as directed and we'll see if he feels better.

When we were driving to the witch doctor's office yesterday I told Rich that we were close to the turn because we were passing the pet cemetery. Rich said, "I'm not sure that's a good sign if his office is next to a pet cemetary." I delivered the best deadpan line of my life and said, "oh he's a pet psychic too." There was an uncomfortable pause and Rich said, "Are you serious? Cause if you are, I'm not getting out of the car." Oh my God, I laughed and laughed and laughed.

When we were leaving, Rich said, "I should have asked him how Connor was doing. He was a good dog."