soreI love her. She gives a mini massage before she makes me crackle and she doesn't laugh when I tell her that I think Joe dislocated my hip and knee during sex. (Long story, I'll get to that some other time) Nor does she laugh when I tell her my ass hurts, she just massages and adjusts my butt and it feels better. (Okay for those that know Dr. Kelli, yes, she's cute and no, I'm not telling her my ass hurts just to get her to massage my butt. To be completely honest,
kineticphonenix is much better at butt massages. FYI, she also does not laugh when you tell her that your ass hurts.)So I go in today and tell her what's going on, she proceeds to massage my ass and hips. Digging in deep. "Its like massaging a brick wall Jen." Just the kind of compliment I want to hear about my ass! Poke, poke, poke, activator, activator, pull on knees, adjust ankles, push on small of back crushing babies for the drop table, dig, dig, dig. "Don't be suprised if you find bruises tommorrow I had to work you over pretty hard." Last time I heard that I ended up with some beautiful bruises that were given to me with love in a much different situation. I think I prefer those bruises.
When I finally get up from the table, I feel worse than ever. I'm walking slower with a little more pain. I think"Why do I pay for this pain?" "You'll feel better tommorrow Jen". And she's right, I'll feel better when I wake up in the morning. Which is why I continue to pay for this abuse. Although I don't know if I feel better because the problem is fixed or because I'm distracted by the new pain! Ahh, the joys of chiropractic adjustments.
