Medical communication humor

That Time My Chiropractor Told Me I Was Dying, and Now a Tiny Alien Is Growing in My Right Breast

The medical field sucks at communication

Image from author’s IStock license

Without adjusting me, the chiropractor appears and stands next to the table where I’m lying face-down, eagerly awaiting the relief of stretched muscles and crackly bones shifting back into their rightful place.

He appears at eye level, so I’m staring at his rumpled khakis, trying to avoid looking at the crotch area. I’ve already had all the mechanical, digital, massaging stuff done to me while waiting for my adjustment.

He asks me to meet him in his office, where I sit and he stands. He carries a folder, which he opens and looks at as he says,

“So we won’t be doing any more adjustments. Youre bones are too fragile.”

I cock my head like a poodle, while giving him the side-eye, which is not easy to manage. Try it.

Me, looking askance at my chiropractor. Actually, Cody, my sister’s sweetest poodle on the planet. Photo from author’s collection.

“What do you mean my bones are too fragile.”