On my Patreon page, I shared a piece about a woman’s horror story in dealing with a shitty chiropractor. Because I’ve been seeing chiropractors for over a decade and am grateful for the pain relief they’ve brought me, I defend chiropractors from the common accusations of quackery.
Unless they’re quacks.
There are two types of chiropractors
- Science-backed chiropractors: These folks won’t try to sell you products from MLMs, won’t claim that adjustments will cure influenza, and won’t insist that drinking apple cider vinegar will resolve multiple health issues.
- Natural, wellness-to-white-supremacy pipeline scam artists: These folks will do the items listed above. If that’s your thing, feel free to see those kinds of providers, but this post (nor my blog or company) will match with your values.
The piece I shared on Patreon detailed the woman’s experience with the latter.
After a Patron with experience in the field shared their thoughts, I decided to share my experience with both types of chiropractors.
Here’s an excerpt of my chiropractor story*
For about a decade, Hubster and I went to the same chiropractor. He wasn’t outwardly or even subtly objectionable. In fact, my chiropractor and I got along great!
Things started to change when Trump got elected. The chiropractor leaned conservative and was a self-professed gun-nut. However, when I asked him, he made clear he didn’t like Trump and thought the guy was “an idiot.” That said, the chiro was also a self-professed conspiracy theorist and a fan of Joe Rogan. I started seeing multiple red flags, but I didn’t run away because he’d been good to us.
Looking back, I see a lot of what this person mentioned in her piece. Our old chiro carried Advocare, which was an multi-level marketing (MLM). If you don’t know already, don’t trust any MLM; they’re all bullshit. He never peddled it on me, so I wasn’t phased by it. He also started dabbling in essential oils including giving me an oregano sniffer to help with my sinuses. It smelled nice, but I don’t know that it did a damn thing. And he made it himself, which I would not have trusted if we’d not had such a long relationship with the guy.
Regardless, the end came when he moved offices. He decided to join an existing practice.
I don’t know how I missed the giant cross when I walked in the first day to the new practice, but I did. Hubster–whose appointment was later that day–saw it though.
As I waited in the main waiting area, I noticed the Christian references. Then I sent this selfie to Hubster:
If you can’t read the painting I posed with in this selfie, it says, “We treat. Jesus heals.”
At that point, I was out.
Want more stories about my extensive and weird-ass experiences with healthcare providers? Or even why I’m skeptical of religion? Contact me and tell me!