Image courtesy of FreeDigitalPhotos.net.
Today I went back to the chiropractor to see if she could ungnarl my back any further. She decided to put me on this special machine with a fancy name. But truly it should be called The Rack, because that is what it is. They strap you into a harness and then pull the ends of your body in opposite directions, which results in tremendous pain and The Renewed Inability Of Your Legs To Support Your Own Body Weight.
I managed to stumble into a chair in the hallway, and I was firmly prepared to sit there for the rest of my life if it meant I never had to feel that much pain again. Unfortunately this meant that I overheard the entire conversation taking place between the therapist and the next patient on The Rack.
Patient: (Being Dramatic, with lots of moaning and groaning) “I think they should just take us all outside like they do with old horses and shoot us.”
Therapist: “Oh that reminds me of this piano recital I had when I was ten.”
Me: not really seeing the connection.
Therapist: “My piano teacher lived on a ranch out in the country, so after everyone finished performing they took us all outside, brought up a steer, and shot it right in the forehead while we all watched.”
Therapist: (Not really seeming all that concerned.) Then they hoisted it up on a truck (I sort of tuned out right here because this part of the story involved very yucky things such as slicing open and things falling out.) Then we all walked by and touched it. And then we went back inside and had punch and cookies.”
Patient: “Or maybe they should just wring our necks.”
(Me: Dude! With the death wish!)
Therapist: “You know, that’s a lot harder to do than it looks. I had to wring a chicken’s neck one time so that I could feed it to my snake.”
Me: Why, God, why? Why did THIS have to be the moment when I lost the use of my legs?!
Therapist: “We used to feed it rabbits…”
Me: Dear God in heaven! Save me now!
Therapist: “…but you know, rabbits can fight back. They have really sharp claws, so the snake could get hurt.”
Me: Oh, heaven forbid the snake gets injured!
Therapist: “But the rabbits still have to be warm when you feed them to the snake.”
Me: What happened? Where the hell am I?
Therapist: “So we had to put the rabbits in a burlap bag [and do very bad things to them resulting in their death] before we gave them to the snake.”
Me: Holy Mother of God, that may be the worst thing I’ve ever heard. And I still can’t walk away! This day SUCKS!
Therapist: “So one day we decided to give it a chicken instead. We almost had to take the snake to the vet, because it took him 4 hours to get past the wings, and we were worried that he wouldn’t make it.”
Me: Seriously. Am I on drugs? Because if I’m not, I think I need to get some.