Yesterday I went to the local chiropractor. I was inspired to do this because a dear friend (and chiropractor) at a recent Cancun retreat was kind enough to adjust my neck several times while on vacation. If you’ve never seen a neck being adjusted – imagine any zombie movie you know when the hero/heroin grabs the zombie by the face and snaps their neck. Then insert yourself as the zombie and the chiropractor as the hero… but in a happy turn of events you survive the neck adjustment… and feel amazing on top of it.
Anyways, I wanted to continue getting adjusted (physically) and decided to seek out the local chiro in my area. She adjusted my neck in a different manner, using a syringe looking thing with a pencil eraser on the end of it that just made this cute little popping sound. This… is less impressive than the neck snap maneuver so I was totally not sure it would do anything. While she was at it she adjusted my lower back mentioning that it was a little out and that it could be having an impact on my digestion… again using the magic popping pencil eraser.
Fast forward to a few hours later in the evening, my neck was SO tender and sore and my stomach was very upset. I can’t say for sure that it was totally due to the magic pencil eraser tool or not, but regardless it was very uncomfortable. So after taking Tylenol… and ibuprofen… I went to bed hoping that sleep would take away my aches. I also might have farted when I got into bed. When my husband got into bed I smelled what I am SURE was the aroma of a dead animal. I proceeded to scold him for the next 10 minutes about not “cutting it off” before he got into bed. He kept swearing it wasn’t his fart, but mine. Which was NOT possible. That kind of smell does not come out of my body.
Fast forward again to a bit later when I am in the kitchen getting some more water and tums for my belly… and I fart again… and then it occurs to me (aka hits me in the olfactory) that it WAS in fact the smell of death coming out of my very own body. I was mortified and equally in awe that my body could make anything that smelled like that. I did finally tell my husband that it was in fact my butt that was the offender, not his… and he graciously accepted my apology for so adamantly accusing him of the crime. Then I told him it wasn’t my fault at all, but definitely the adjustment from the chiropractor. It must have stirred something up. Again, I can’t prove that for a fact, but it makes me more comfortable than any other explanation of how my body produced something so offensive.
Today all my systems seem to be functioning as expected so I’m assuming that the worst has passed. I do have another appointment on Friday and I’m equal parts interested and terrified about what will come out of that visit. Literally.
So, in between all the enlightenment and growth that I try to let in to each of my days… sometimes normal old flatulence gets in there too… and makes for a good story.
Moral of the story: Careful what all your physical and emotional adjustments stir up… you might be surprised!!