Wednesday, April 8, 2009

Welcome to the last resort, enjoy your stay

There is a time and place for everything.  That's what they say.  Actually, Barclay said 'there is tyme and place for euery thynge', but that's the kind of spelling you'd expect from someone who travels on a ship of fools.  The point is I haven't slept in a couple of months... oh, I've already used that excuse, excuse me.  

Ah right.  The point is, there is a time and a place for everything.  Of course, this assumes that I am referring to the observable universe and not the possibility of multiverse, in which case there would be more than one time and place for everything.  But dopplegangers and Hilbert Space are beyond the scope of this blog, so I'll leave the parallel dimensions to the less sleep deprived, to people whose conversations don't regularly include such poetics as "did someone make a poopy diaper?" and "who's mommy's little puppy bear?  yes you are!  yes you are my puppy bear!!". 

The point, for real now, is that there is a time and place for everything.  Of course, this relates to chiropractic, as do all things chiroscope.  See, chiropractic is remarkably effective.  It is safe, efficient and great at fixing a lot of ouches and twinges and whatnot.  But sometimes, it can't. Medicine and surgery, on the other hand, are also great.  Sometimes.  You see?  A tyme and a place for euery thynge.  

Take me, for example (well, I don't see any other volunteers...).  Chiropractic helped me manage my lower back issues for many years.  It still does.  But when the situation became unmanageable, despite my most dogged attempts at all things conservative, surgery was recommended to prevent permanent nerve damage.  It was time to visit the last resort.   And though I was drug-free and as natural as could be during my pregnancy, when my son's heart rate decelerated enough to make my own heart stop, a cesarean section was recommended. Again, I visited the last resort.  

It is not a place you go to easily, the last resort.  It is not a choice destination, but rather a choice we make when it seems we are out of choices.  Both times I have resorted to the last resort, I've been lucky and grateful to have the option.  I'd exhausted all other avenues, and it was the right place at the right time.  

For people who pride themselves on being healthy or able to resist pain, on choosing the natural path or being able to self-heal (uh... me?) it can be difficult to succumb to more drastic measures and interventions, hard to acknowledge that the simple solution isn't going to work this time.  For people whose identity lies in these factors, say practitioners of natural healing arts (me again?), it can be hard to admit 'defeat', that we couldn't fix this problem, that the philosophies and techniques that we espouse weren't helpful, this time.  

I've stayed at better places, but I'm glad to know that there is always an vacancy at the last resort.   

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