Tuesday, April 5, 2011

In which I type a word I never say

So after said car accident, I went to the chiropractor for the first time.

Apparently, chiropractors are a big deal. I didn't know. 

They can ease ear infections, alleviate menstrual cramps, remedy indigestion, and they're working on a cure for cancer.

They also make me fart a lot.

See, early in our marriage, My Man and I decided to enforce a strict "pooter whenever you darn well feel like it" policy. Unless it's particularly bad, in which case you'd better leave the room. Or at least warn each other. But for the most part, it's generally Free Toots around here.

And sometimes I forget that other people may not abide by said policy.

So back to my back.

I'm told that the accident whacked the curve right out of my neck. This is bad. You're not supposed to have a straight neck. So I've been going veryveryoften for alignments and physical therapy. Apparently I'm a sucker for pain.

Yesterday, I had my first dose of deep tissue massage (to work out all the soft tissue scars that won't let me bend my neck. Since I generally like bending my neck, I agreed.)

First there's the question of what to wear. Or not. They said to "undress to the level of your comfort." Well, lady, if it were that easy, I'd wear my sweats. Or perhaps a Snuggie. But then they might write "prude" under my patient notes, and I'd feel dumb.

So yesterday, with Scentsy burning and some nice Chopin in the background, she instructed me to "go ahead and get between the sheets." And then she leaves the room.


I had to make a quick decision, and decided to strip to my underwear.

(I can't wait to see what google searches will come up with for this post ...)

Feeling slightly kinky, I told her she could come back in. Hopefully it was too dark to see my blush.

Then there's the trouble of what to talk about - or not. I mean, we'd just met, and she's rubbing me all over with oils. I might as well know her favorite color.

Finally I just shut up and let myself enjoy it. And then ... I felt it.

A little bubble descending. That would totally ruin the Scentsy.

So then I'm alternately clenching and trying to "relax" without stinking up the place. I was practically sweating with effort. Not only will I be labeled a prude, but a gaseous one at that. I might have to switch chiropractors.

But success was had, and no flatulence was expelled. Forty-five minutes of victory.

Feeling awfully proud of myself, I got dressed and waited for the doctor for my adjustment. And -


I might have to switch after all.


Hel said...

I say let it go next time. Although it's embarrassing can you imagine how many times it's happened to these people before? My sister did massage therapy and she said that because people relax it happens a lot.

Let it out sister, let it out.

p.s. I'm thinking of enforcing your rule of "particularly bad, then leave the room". I've struggled to go to sleep because of what Dal has left lingering.

Kimberly said...

Bwahahahahah! Dang I love you.

I've been seeing a chiro for the past several months because of a bulging disc and have had more than one such...incident.

Neil has told me that, being an Optometrist and seeing patients in a wee little room, he feels TERRIBLE if he lets out rip in the middle of an appointment. There's no windows in those rooms either! Eeep!

Joni said...

Best. Post. Ever.

Wonder Woman said...

I'm still giggling at your picture. And use of the word "pooter." It's the word my family used growing up. I thought we were the only ones. :o)

I would imagine that chiropractors and massage therapists see quite a bit of flatulence. I'm positive you weren't the first.

That said, I would also consider switching if it had happened to me.

I went to the chiro just today. I'm kinda sore. My guy is super cheap, but you get what you pay for.

Harmony said...

I love love love love LOVE that you did a whole post just about pooters.

You rock my world.

Sweating in the endless heat said...

Becky, I just love your honesty!!! I too have had this same situation happen, and wish I was able to have controlled the pooters:-/ Oh well, I guess that is part of their jobs, just like it is for us to change little ones poopy diapers:-)

Katy said...

The fact that you wrote an entire post about farting - er, I mean fluffing (we're trying to switch to that word...) just made my day. Reminds me of when I started passing gas uncontrollably during labor, right before I had to start pushing. Worst feeling ever = knowing you have to toot and not being able to stop it at all. The end.

Qait said...

HAhahah, awesome!
I can't help but laugh when I pass gas. It's just so darn funny to me (and a teensy bit embarrassing sometimes).
We're rather Free about our gas, too...and I've had the same thing happen where I forgot not everyone would, um, appreciate that free-spiritedness...

Melanie Jacobson said...

Been there, done that, more than once. But I say she deserved it for the deep tissue punishment.

Caroline said...

Ah-mazing. I'm seriously laughing out loud. Hahaha! We have the same rule in our household as well! Well done my pooter friend, well done!

MommyJ said...

My grandmother always used to say, "There's more room outside than there is in!"

And seriously... who knew that blogging about farts would turn into a blogging hero for the day? (Oh yes, you absolutely are my blogging hero right now...)

Melissa Bastow said...

We don't have that rule here. In fact, at our house, farting is never allowed. Belching is totally fine though. And I can totally laugh at other people's toot stories - that's 100% allowed here.

Nikki said...

Just when I thought I couldn't like you any more than I do. hehehe. I love that you blogged it.

I know a man that works with my mom and he's told her that in thirty-plus years of marriage he's never passed gas in front of his wife. I just think that's weird.

Danny and I have the same sort of agreement about letting them fly.

And if my mother-in-law reads this, I completely deny it. >.<

Dakrat said...

Wait. What? Women pass gas? What about the invisible barking spiders?!

I've been duped.

Elizabeth said...

I love my chiropractor. I see him every week and he's the only reason number four was born on time and healthy. Did you know?

Also, I love having a baby or a small child with me because if I have to pass gas and it smells terrible I figure people just assume I've got a kid toting a full diaper around or something. XD

InkMom said...

I gotta say I thought about Pilates class a whole new way today, as we were all laid out with our legs up in the air, spread wide to stretch inner thighs. And I'm begging to wonder if child's pose might actually be called "break wind position".