I won’t be seeing my friend, Dr. Chris, today.  Business just got too slow and the rent too high, so he had to close his doors.  For three years I’ve seen him at least three times a week, for several hours at a time.  Technically he’s a chiropractor, but for me he’s been so much more than that.  When I first arrived in his office, referred by a friend and desperate, I could barely get myself onto one of his tables so he could work on me.  I’d had a bulging disc that I’d been working on with a physical therapist, but I thought I could heal even more if I had chiropractic help as well.  I went to someone with a good reputation.  I was interviewed by one person and treated by another.  My theory is that communication went awry because with one aggressive move, that chiropractor turned my bulging disc into a herniated one.  Once the jelly is out of the doughnut, there’s no putting it back.  I could barely walk.  Keith would take me from home to school so I could teach, and then cart me back so I could get horizontal on our firm sofa.  If I moved suddenly it would feel like someone was stabbing me in the leg with a knife.  I went, in under a second, from being able-bodied to being permanently disabled.

I wasn’t very trusting after that.  Western medicine offered me the choice of cortisone injections into my spine until the cortisone would begin to degrade my spinal tissue, or permanent medication that had a list of horrific side-effects.  I tried the cortisone twice but it hurt like hell, had minimal productive effect, and caused my heart to race for days.  I tried acupuncture.  I think it helped a bit.  I tried sound wave therapy.  I don’t know if that helped or not.  My last traditional treatment option was to fuse my discs together, and my physical therapist did not recommend it.  He said that over time the fact that two discs were in an unnatural position would affect the discs above and below causing an eventual cascading failure.  Finally a trusted friend recommended Dr. Chris.

Chris Abrahamson is a tall, fatherly Swede, and the most gentle man I have ever met.  His prices were ridiculously reasonable and I immediately felt safe with him in spite of myself, so I decided to give it a shot.  The first time on the table, I could barely tell he was doing anything.  He was touching my spine but not with a lot of pressure.  I would have thought he was a fraud except that when I got up I felt a little better.  That was the continuing trend.  I’d go.  He’d be gentle.  I wouldn’t know why but I’d feel better.  Continuing treatment is necessary for maintenance and there’s never going to be yoga, running or any high impact activity in my future, but I can get around pretty darned well these days.  He is everything a chiropractor or any kind of doctor should be.  But here’s the thing, he’s more than that.

Chris is a genuine healer.  His calming presence is soothing to everyone who has come into his office.  I’ve watched it happen.  People are full of anxiety and stress, and when they leave they are relaxed and smiling.  Personally, I have an anxiety disorder.  I can have my heart racing when I’m thinking about flowers.  Part of the reason I went to see him so often was because when I went, it calmed me, even on really hard days.  I also have a hard time expressing how I feel, and so I carry a lot of my feelings in my physical body.  It’s weird, I know, but it’s true.  There were times when no one else was there and he would lay his big open palm on my shoulder or stomach and I would start to bawl my eyes out.  It didn’t bother him.  He’d just sit on a stool at the head of my table, his hand on my shoulder, saying oh so quietly, “It’s okay.  It’s okay.”  He’d hand me Kleenex and then when I sat up he’d sit next to me and I’d finish crying on his shoulder.  He always had a twinkle in his eye and when I was depressed he could always make me laugh.

Once Keith was out of town and I was at home and accidentally grabbed the handle of a skillet that had just come out of a 450 degree oven.  I could hear my fingers sizzle.  I was in so much pain and had no idea what to do because ice made my pain go through the roof, and all I could remember were old wives tales about burns.  With my remaining functional hand I texted him at 9:00 p.m. on a Saturday, and he texted right back, “No ice!  Use a bowl of cool water!”  I did so and texted a couple more questions.   Then I tried to leave him alone.  Pretty soon I got an incoming text.  He was checking on me to make sure I  was okay.

When I needed emergency surgery he came and visited me in the hospital even though he hates hospitals.  He held my hand and got teary-eyed because it was right after surgery and I was a mess.  He really, truly cared about me.  It was so appropriate and so extraordinary to have a doctor as a father figure caring for my emotions as well as my body.  Maybe because it was another chiropractor who hurt me, after a while he only charged what I had on my HSA.  The way he treated me changed the way I view God because it changed the way I view men and fathers.  And I know I’m not the only one who has been utterly blessed to know this man and be helped by him.

Monetarily some may look at his life and think it small.  They would be wrong.  I have never met anyone who gave so much to so many, expecting so little in return.  This is, in my opinion, the definition of a powerful, meaningful, important life.  Without him and his generosity there would be so much more suffering in the world.

His life has become an example of true success to me.  Even if I don’t make a lot of money I want people at the end of my life to say that I made every bit of difference that I could, loving people and the creatures of the world to the best of my ability.  I may not be a healer in the traditional sense, but I can be a lover of all through my research, my art, my words, and my actions.  I will sometimes fail, but I will keep recommitting to love because those with the most beautiful lives I’ve seen, like Dr. Chris, have done the same.  Hopefully we’ll go out once in a while for tea because man, I’m going to miss that guy.