My chiropractor is quite a chunky guy. So am I. This makes him perfect for jumping up and down on me every six weeks or so and making bones and ligaments creak and crack. Whenever he's about to twist my head round to make my neck click, I give my toes a wiggle just in case it’s the last time I ever can.
But my chiropractor is currently Off – not unironically, with a sore back – so today I got his stand-in who is half the height and weight. And so we got to use – da duh DAA! – the Table.
Actually we use the Table every time I go, but normally I just lie on it. I hadn’t realised what a cunning piece of engineering work it is. It’s broken into segments, each of which can be made to pop up a couple of inches by pressing a pedal. Thus it can elevate your feet, knees, waist, trunk, head or any combination of any of the above. Puny Chiropractor might not be big enough to make me go pop but he’s strong enough to push the segments down again. The energy of the added momentum goes into my body, sandwiched between descending chiropractor and ascending table, and works the necessary magic. An added benefit is that the noise and vibration are so loud that I don’t hear the noise of what’s going on inside me. I quite like it.
But next time it will probably be back to Regular Chunky Chiropractor, and audible crackling. Of all my various medical practitioners - GP, dentist, chiro - he's the only one I'm on first name terms with. He recently went through quite a bitter divorce and to my surprise I could actually cheer him up with a Jim Davidson joke about marriage: next time I’ll just find a woman I don’t like, and give her a house and half a million. He takes away my pain, I take away his. Seems a fair exchange.