The story goes that when LaDainian Tomlinson readied to enter the NFL in 2001, he made a phone call to Dallas Cowboy running back Emmett Smith to ask for any tips and insights Smith might share. Smith’s first bit of advice was “get yourself a good chiropractor.”
While my body isn’t pounded for 16-plus weeks of football, I have punished mine enough that I truly do appreciate my chiropractor, Gary Counselman. For the last 10 years, Dr. Counselman has consistently proved to me that a “good chiropractor” is indeed very important.
Dispelling myths seems to be a required part of the job for a chiropractor. People ignorant to the six years it takes to be a licensed chiropractor often use the word “quack” and certainly are missing out on the relief a good adjustment brings. Dr. Counselman always amazes me how he can run his hands down my spine, find areas in need of adjustment and often bring instantaneous relief with what really are very simple and never painful moves.
Ever since I rattled around inside the interior of a big Oldsmobile Cutlass in 1977, I have fought keeping myself in line. The wreck that broke my femur, pelvis and hand, in the long run, was nothing compared to the suffering left for my friend, the driver at fault, and the woman that hit us at a highway junction and lost her life.
Nevertheless, doctors have told me just about every inch of my body underwent massive shock in the accident. Sure, collisions at the plate in my catching days, bike wrecks and skateboard wipeouts haven’t helped much either.
Yet, nothing twists and turns me in odd ways more than my years of photography. I often catch myself in some odd position and think to myself how that is going to hurt now that old age tries hard to catch up with me. Sitting on a basketball court jerking a long lens up and down all game has even begun to take a toll on Laura, now a confirmed believer in Dr. Counselman’s skills. Everything gets better when basketball season ends, and we get up off the court and see Dr. Counselman far less. Sorry, KU fans.
When we must, though, there is a very comforting countenance to Dr. Counselman’s care. Generally, he is man of few words. He listens to my latest tale of disaster and then goes about lining me up again for another round of insanity. Surely, he has had some good laughs after my visits.
Another chiropractor I know told me once in admiration that I was seeing “one good bone cracker” in Dr. Counselman. How true. See you the next time I do something stupid, Dr. Counselman.