Today's Helping of Chicken Soup for the Soul

[Guest guest]

Restored Faith

By W. son, D.C.

Glenn was a hardworking, dedicated high school teacher. I met him at a local

city festival. He told me that his right arm felt " dead. " It had gradually

become numb from his armpit to the tips of his fingers. He had, over the

previous nineteen months, consulted with his family physician, three

neurologists, an orthopedist, a physical therapist and a hand specialist. The

testing had been extensive including a CT scan, MRI, NCV, EMG, x-rays and a

discogram. The results were inconclusive. He labored through rehabilitative

exercises, multiple prescriptions, and physical therapy and was currently in the

midst of psychotheraphy sessions because the most recent diagnosis for his " dead

arm " was that of a psychosomatic disorder.

He desperately accepted my offer of a free consultation to explore chiropractic

options, and began chiropractic care in February. His x-rays revealed

considerable vertebral subluxation in his lower neck. Ironically, his previous

x-ray report had a one-word conclusion, " Normal. " I adjusted him frequently at

the onset of his care program and then tapered off slightly as better movement

returned to his neck.

I got to know Glenn quite well over the next few months. To this day, I don't

think I've ever met a more giving, gentle spirit than his. He greeted me at

every visit with a smile that naturally brightened the entire room. I looked

forward to his visits because he always seemed to have a tidbit of wisdom to

impart upon my practice. I adjusted patients in an open area with six tables

near each other and often times I'd find him conversing and sharing his

experiences with the people on the tables nearest his.

I grew more and more saddened, however, when each visit revealed the same news,

" There is no change to my 'dead' arm. " Over the first few months I continued to

encourage him and assure him as I worked diligently to free the compressed nerve

in his neck. He knew he would be better off without the subluxations in his

neck, but both of us still agonized that his arm remained dead.

Twenty visits passed, thirty, forty...no change. He remained the most positive,

optimistic person I had known, but I was growing weary. I second-guessed my

technique, my diagnosis and my efforts.

Approximately seven months and nearly sixty visits had passed. He continued to

report no change. It was a September afternoon when my receptionist informed me

that Glenn was waiting for me in a consultation room. Since this was not normal,

I was concerned that something was most definitely wrong and I suspected that he

may be giving up. My heart sank when I entered the room and found my strong,

steady and gentle friend sobbing deeply with his face buried in his hands.

Quickly reaching him I put my hand on his forearm and asked what was wrong. With

swollen, red eyes Glenn said, " I didn't want to tell you on my last visit

because I didn't think it was real, but my arm...it's alive! " He continued, " My

hand still remains numb but my arm is back to normal. I'm almost afraid to

believe it. "

We celebrated that day and a new zeal returned to my adjustments. Over the next

few months it became a source of anticipated excitement to see how the life was

slowly returning to his hand. He began to feel his palm, then his fingers and

eventually his thumb. Today he has full function of his arm and hand. The only

residual damage he currently experiences is a numb spot about the size of a

marble on his right thumbnail. His thumbnail now serves as an inspiration to

other patients of mine as his story has been passed along. As for Glenn, I still

look forward to his visits. He greets me from across the room with a loud, " Get

over here, Doc, and adjust my thumbnail! " His faith has restored mine and for

that I am eternally grateful.