March 2004

'The Magic Bus'

by Dr. Will Tickel

The following line of thought was started by an unhappy patient a couple of days back, a 42‑year old woman who had been suffering with a low back condition for months. She'd missed work and become short‑fused in temperament. She was, by her own definition, a miserable wretch.

Her husband of 20 years was fed up. In consultation, he had remarked, "We want to start playing again, Doc, if you know what I mean." She was exhausted from the pain of sciatica, which intermittently ran down both legs. "That nerve's as big a round as your thumb for about an inch and a half," I had told her to assure her that her pain was real.

Like so many others I've had the privilege to serve down through the years, the M.D.s (managers of disease) had failed to correct the cause of this woman's discomfort (dis‑ease), leaving her with thoughts that perhaps it was just her imagination.

You know, "all in her head."

In some of my early teachings to the patient, I had broached this idea with her, as I often do. "I bet you've begun to wonder if it's not all in your head, haven't you?" Tearfully, she sobbed and shook her head in agreement. "Well, from a chiropractic or neurologic standpoint," I said, " everything your body needs to heal and maintain ease is in your head. Problem is, what the brain cell wants to do with the tissue cell is being interfered with somewhere along the line," I concluded, soothing her as I ran my hand up and down her spine.

"Understand?" I asked, coming around front to face her. "Yes," she nodded. "Our job," I concluded, "is to find the interference, remove it, and allow your body to heal. Would that be alright with you?"

In the report, I told the woman I needed three to six months to make a decision as to her degree of recovery. "That might mean three times a week for the entire six months, following a month that might be every day. Are you committed?" She assured me she was.

I forgot to mention her "arthritis."

"So you've spent more than a $1,000 of your money, your copay, not to mention how much insurance money for drugs for this condition the medics diagnosed as arthritis, is that correct?" I asked, repeating what she had told me in consultation.

"Yes, for advanced arthritis they said. And for which they didn't provide me any relief," she added.

"Did the M.D.s, the managers of disease, do any blood work or other diagnostics besides x‑rays of your low back?" Of course they hadn't, and she responded that they hadn't.

I already knew most of the answers to the questions I was asking the patient. But the patient didn't know the questions existed. It's called educating the patient and not making assumptions.

"There is no arthritis apparent in your spine," I reported. "In fact, the M.D.s were merely describing your pain to you when they said you had arthritis. "Itis" means pain from inflammation and "arth" means joint. They told you what you already knew. You have pain in the joints of your back. Just like sinusitis, gastritis, and appendicitis are the pains of inflammation in those body parts."

"My body is killing me!"

On the fifth or sixth visit the woman remarked to me, "My body is killing me!"

I immediately stopped what I was doing and came full face with the patient, bending low over the table, explaining in animated fashion, "Stop! Stop right there! Your body is not your enemy. It is not killing you. In fact, your body is your friend, your vehicle. It's how you get around in this world and it wishes only to serve you as best it can. If anything, it is you who are killing your body. And one of the ways is in thinking like you just expressed to me."

I hesitated.

"There are some issues you're going to have to decide upon if you want to get well. One is getting some exercise ‑‑ and walking is plenty at the moment. Another is looking at your diet. A third is paying attention to your posture, including the way you sleep. And, finally, there are the cigarettes. All those things can't be dealt with all at once, but we'll knock them down as we're able, are you with me?" Again, a nod of agreement.

"Now, apologize to yourself for saying your body is killing you." She did.

Last straw

On another visit she said, "I don't know what you did to me last time, but please, no popping or cracking this time." Those were her opening remarks to me. It seems she had just visited the person she calls her "physician" who had advised her to go see the anesthesiologist about another epidural for pain.

I became livid.

"First of all," I said, "Let's get something else straight here. I am a physician. My degree and my license read 'Chiropractic Physician.' Now, let me ask you something. Did you tell your other physician that you were not interested in any more shots? Did you dictate to your other physician just what he could or could not do to or for you?"

"No," she said.

"Then don't come in here dictating to this physician what he can and cannot do!"

She replied, "I'm hurting and don't want any more adjustments."

"I hear you," I said. "But get your purse and get on out of here. You're through here. You've handcuffed me. So, there's nothing more to be said or done. Here, take your purse and leave," I said, handing it to her.

She didn't budge.

"Or, would you rather lie face down and let me treat you the way I so determine?"

Without a word, she went prone.

I asked myself, "Will she be back tomorrow?"

She was, and reported she had developed a headache and vomiting. Much to my surprise, she reported these new symptoms in this way: "Well, I had a change, doc. Just like you told me on my first visit here. And change is good."

For the next three days, she developed headaches and vomiting after her adjustments. Then, on the fourth day, she brought her husband in with her.

We exchanged greetings and I went to work. For the first time in three weeks, her static leg check showed balance. There was no crossover with flexion of the legs.

I remarked, "This is the first time you've gotten on this table with legs of equal length and they are not changing when I bring your feet toward your buttocks. Is there any pain or discomfort when I forcefully push your feet against your backside?"

"Nope," she said. "This is the best I've felt in months. But I did get the headache again and I did throw up last night."

"This, too, shall pass," I assured her. "We are all Bozos on this bus." (Jerry Garcia and The Grateful Dead made popular the phrase "The Magic Bus," in reference to the Volkswagen bus, those blimps on the highway of life. The comics Cheech and Chong made a record in the 1960s entitled, "We are all Bozos on this bus.")

Somehow, my patient's statement about her body killing her started me to thinking about what a magic bus the body truly is. And how we are the drivers of the bus, each one of us spiritual beings who are being housed as humans for a while. These are talking points you chiropractors need to develop so that the mass of lost and suffering humanity out there can find its way to ease.

My patient is well on her way to healing. But there's something I have to say to you doctors reading this.

Before you go handing patients their purses, or coats and hats, and inviting them to leave your office, you'd better be certain that you have established your love and concern for their health and well being ahead of time. They need to know you love them and that you put their interest ahead of your own. Ask yourself on a continuing basis, as Dr. Jim Parker so advised, "Whose interest?"

In your education you also need to establish just who you are. That you are the witness to the healer and that the healer is inside the patient. Or, as J. Clay Thompson was so fond of saying, "The doctor walks in with the patient."

As well, you must establish with every patient who walks into your environment that the managers of disease (M.D.s) are all a bunch of Bozos. The body knows better.

From the back of the bus

It was in the 1960s when Rosa Park, an African American woman elected to sit in the front of the bus somewhere in Alabama. Prior to this event, her people had always been confined to the back of the bus. Until someone stood up and sat down elsewhere. And stayed. Nobody likes riding in the back of the bus for long. It's bumpy back there. It'll give you a headache. Sometimes, it'll even throw you from your seat.

Sure, in terms of social acceptance, insurance equality, etc. chiropractors seem to be confined to the back of the bus. Until we individually decide to focus on our purpose and move up.

You learned more medicine than chiropractic in chiropractic college. Unfortunately, this trend seems to be escalating. All that education can work to your advantage, however. Tie it to chiropractic philosophy and your understanding of the innate way. Do so and you'll begin to realize that when it comes to knowing what the body wants and needs at a particular point in time (i.e., treatment) we are all in the back of the bus and we are all "Bozos." M.D.s perhaps even more so because they, in all their arrogance, may actually believe they know what they're doing.

In a famous Cheech and Chong gag, they are tooling along in their magic bus when they notice a flashing light behind them. As they pull over, a sweet smelling cloud of a natural substance comes rolling out as the driver winds down the window.

"May I see your license, please?" the officer asks.

"Uh...the license is in the back, man. Yeah, around in the back of the bus, man."

This is true for the chiropractor's license to heal. It's around in the back of bus. Perhaps some D.C.s already know this and practice in a manner, which leads patients to conclude likewise. Perhaps some of you need to work on this. All of us need to continually sharpen our communication of this.

A wise person once said, "If the patient doesn't get what you're selling then they will never buy it even though you own it." The buying is in communication. And, unfortunately, even if you do own it, if they don't get it, what good is it?

So get on the bus. Step up! Tell the story of the magic. Alert the driver especially of his responsibility to drive the bus. Then get out of the way. It's as simple as that.

(Will Tickel, D.C. has been practicing for 24 years now. Most recently, he and his chiropractic wife, Pamela and chiropractic son, Bill and chiropractic wife, Tammy, began practicing in three offices in Cincinnati, Ohio. Says Dr. Will of Cincinnati, "I can see why Mark Twain said he would move here if he was ever told he only had one year to live. Cincinnati is definitely eight years behind ‑‑ especially in its approach to health. Our message to Cincinnati is: "Drugs and surgery are radical, not conservative. And there is another way to live." Two of Dr. Tickel's sons, James and Geoff, are currently enrolled at Palmer.)