Dear Doctor Gruebel*
I must confess something to you. I am sorry. That one day when I went to you see you, I went against "doctor's orders." I remember it as if it was only yesterday (add surreal music here)...
I see your face so clearly. You glared at me with this stern look, handed me a slip of paper, and told me directly and harshly, "You go get that prescription!" I can also recall your finger pointing at me, though that seems odd you would be using both hands in your non-verbal queue directive. But maybe you handed me the paper and then pointed. Either way your crooked finger was involved.
The next memory is me going to the 1st floor pharmacy. I looked into the pharmacy and then looked at the slip of paper. As I stood there for what must have been about three minutes, my mind wandered even further back to a recent past. (More surreal music here.) I thought of the moments of seeing you for a couple minutes as you asked a few questions, typed into a computer and then scribbled some notes. I thought of your potential plan to put me into surgery to open further my bone so the pinch nerve in my neck would alleviate. I thought of receiving that first prescription for muscle relaxants, and how they didn't take away the pinch nerve but only had me loopy and dopey ... with the same neck pain. I thought of my dear friend Christiane who kept telling me to "call Hans" in referring to a local expert of "Network Spinal Analysis." I thought of your directive "You go get that prescription." I thought of your fingers.
I thought of all this for those three minutes as I looked into the pharmacy and then back at the slip of paper and then back into the pharmacy - cold, stark, sterile and lifeless.
What did I finally do? I took that slip of paper and walked towards the pharmacy doors ... where I found a trash can. I crumpled up that slip of paper and threw it away. I then took myself and my neck pain out that door.
I am sorry.
I went against your expertise, wisdom, directive and fingers. I went against doctor's orders.
I am sorry. I didn't really know what I was doing. I was confused. Torn. I wasn't sure whether to follow you and your infinite white-coat know-how or the voice screaming in my head, aching in my solar plexus and gently tugging in my heart. I ended up following the loving nudge of my dear friend. I made an appointment with Dr. Hans, and his gentle spinal-touch work went to the root of the problem within my central nervous system, without the need to attack the symptoms with your preposterous surgical notion or the silly and ineffective drugs.** Within a month, the pinched nerve was gone, I was pain free and my posture was incredibly improved. ***
I do have a regret though Dr. Gruebel. I do regret throwing that paper away. I am sorry. I regret tossing that prescription ... when I really should have brought it back to your office and told you to stick it up your ass.
Not because you are a bad person. Not because you don't do good work in your field. Not because you don't have best intentions. And not because many, many, many people have been saved through modern western medicine, including my amazing nephew and my dear friend Jorge. But because with your stern directives you didn't leave room for the real healer in this healing game - the person's innate intuition and their body's innate intelligence.
* The doctor's name has been changed to protect the arrogant.
** Disclaimer: You must not rely on the information in this article as an alternative to medical advice from your doctor or other professional healthcare provider. If you have any specific questions about any medical matter, you should consult your doctor or other professional healthcare provider.
*** Fuck that, they don't know everything. Do what you know to be right. Don't ever forget: they are salesmen too.
Jim Ellis along with his Head, Heart and Solar Plexus
James Anthony Ellis is a writer and producer living in San Diego. He and Dr. Hans can be reached through www.LegacyProductions.org.