For me, no holiday celebration is complete without a trip to a chiropractor in San Francisco. I always get myself into some kind of situation that results in an injured back. Last year I threw my back out while trying to play a game of Twister with the grand kids. This year, it was a limbo contest. My wife warned me that I wouldn’t be able to get under the limbo bar without injuring myself, but I told her that I could do it. I went under the bar a couple of times without any problems, but on my third pass, things went sour.
The bar was lowered to four feet, and I confidently went up to the bar, expecting to clear it easily. As soon as I started to bend backwards, I felt a pain in my back and couldn’t go under the bar. My wife knew the look on my face all too well, and started calling the chiropractor to make an appointment. I probably could have won that limbo game if I had taken a little aspirin. I’m sure I could have played through the pain and forced myself to get under the bar, although it would have taken me longer to do it.
The next day at the chiropractor’s office, everyone greeted me. They had seen my face so many times that they knew me and knew when to expect me. The chiropractor gave me an examination, some medication, an a warning not to do anything else that would make my condition worse. I know he’s probably tired of seeing me come in every year, but I just can’t help it. Maybe one of these days I’ll listen to my wife when she tells me not to do something. Unfortunately for her, that day will not be today.