Pills or Crotch



Feel It!
Pills or Crotch.
Which is worse?
by Sandra Staas (Thu Mar 18, 2010)


Have you ever had an excruciating pain that is so bad you want to scream, but you can't? You're numb with pain. Literally.

I woke up one morning with a sharp pain in my elbow. Later, there was a shooting pain that ran from my elbow to my finger tips. It was like an electric current. Argh! I wanted to yell out, but couldn't. Then, my arm went numb. I thought I had been hit by lightning.

Sitting made the pain worse, as did standing, as did lying down, as did walking up a slope. The only time I didn't have pain was walking on a level surface. Getting into and out of my car? That was enough to make me want to cut off my arm.

I've never liked seeing a doctor. Nor have I been one to take medications unless it's absolutely essential. I don't even take aspirin.

But, after several days of overwhelming pain and subsequent numbness, I finally sought medical help. A physician's assistant pressed the median nerve in my wrist. This time I managed a screeching yell, something like a bunny about to be devoured by an owl.

‘You have a pinched nerve in your neck' she avowed, quite matter-of-factly. ‘You'll need X rays. Then, see the doctor.'

A few days later can you guess what the doctor did? Yep. He pressed the median nerve in my wrist. Didn't he know I was already in pain? I think I screamed, but maybe I didn't. Maybe my eyes screamed.

‘Take this anti-inflammatory pill for one month, then come back and see me.'

I read the paper which adjoins prescription drugs. It said that this pill could cause liver damage, strokes, and sudden heart attacks. What? And I'm supposed to take this chemical for one whole month?

A week later, I got tingling around my chin. Isn't that a classic sign of a heart attack or of a stroke? Maybe the anti-inflammatory pills were the cause? Maybe I had only hours left to live?

The common consensus of friends and family was to see a chiropractor. Even the pharmacist who had filled the prescription had recommended her chiropractor in glowing terms. She had gone to him for her pinched nerve. No way was she taking pills.

My knowledge of chiropractors was superficial at best. Aren't they the ones who wring your neck like a chicken?

The chiropractor examined my X rays carefully and confirmed I had a pinched nerve in my neck. He told me to stop the anti-inflammatory pills, and suggested he give me a preview of the type of treatment he could offer me. At least he didn't press the median nerve. Yeah! Maybe it wouldn't be that bad. I lay down on his table.

Before I knew it, he was seated behind my head. His legs were wide open. My head was cradled between his thighs, deep inside his crotch. I hate to think where the top of my head was. I wanted to get up and out.

He moved my neck back and forth.

‘Does this bother you?' He enquired in a very soothing voice.

I couldn't answer because I was trying not to laugh. I kept thinking of where my head was placed.

Embarrassment, pain and laughter. Was I going completely crazy? How could I experience so many emotions at the same time?

‘See me three times a week for six weeks' he announced when my head was finally released from wearing his privates like a hat.

The thought of lying with my head stuck up his crotch for the next six weeks was just too much. But neither did I want to continue taking the anti-inflammatory pill.

On the one hand, the chiropractor was charming, good-looking with an impressive crotch. Not that I actually saw it, mind you. On the other hand, there was the possibility of instant death, or liver damage at best, if I continued with the anti-inflammatory.

In the end, I made my decision. I chose to forego both the six week rendezvous with a crotch, and the one month interlude with pills. Slowly, after a month or so, the pain and tingling subsided. My body healed itself, without pills and without my head being buried inside a cavernous crotch.