From theBrinkof DeathA Chiropractic Patient's Story. By Keith WJn 1986 lwas on top of the world.

I t naa jusr won the All NavyI Weightlifting Championships andhad set a national drug free recordin the bench press. My full time lobbecame to lift weights and compete,and I loved it. I attended college atnight and did a number of exhibitionsand talks in the community. I hadminor celebrity status both in theNaval Community and in my city. Lifewas good.

Shortly after returning from a

competition tour I began to experiencesome sinus headaches and my trainingstarted to plateau a bit. I kept a trainingjournal since I started liftingin I978and tracked myprogress very carefully.The headaches were not bad, justannoying. I went to the Navy dispensaryand was given some medications. Themeds worked like magic, except theygave me nuclear diarrhea. I went backto the doctor and was given drugs tostop that. That went away, but then Iexperienced seyere dehydration andwas admitted to the hospital. Aftermany tests, I wdlked out with threemore prescriptions.

My health rapidly began to spiraldownward and soon I was spendingmy days at the hospital going from onedoctor to the next. Within a month Iwas taking 18 drugs a day,whichamounted to about 80 individual pills.I quickly became homebound anddisabled, unable to work, drive a car orreally do much of anything.

The only food I could keep downwas applesauce and sometimes applecobbler. Most nights, I would ger ablanket and a pillow and just sleep withthe pillow on the toilet because the dry

heaves would begin around 1 a.m. andlast until sun-up. On good nights, theheaves were four minutes apart; on badnights theywere two minutes apart.lwent from a solid 22olbs to around165.l looked like death warmed over.

This went on for oyer a year andmost of it is still a blur. I had to havesomeone drive me anytime I neededto see the doctor. Fortunately I hadgood friends in this regard. I saw allkinds of doctors and was even seenby one ofPresident Reagan's doctorsat Bethesda. No one really had ananswer for what was going on, exceptthat my immune system was failing.Diagnoses of Epstein Barr and severechronic fatigtte syndrome werediscussed as possibilities.

I had a meeting with the head ofthe Naval Hospital in Charleston inthe summer of 7987.I was broughtinto his office and he told me that Ishould get my affairs in order becausehe felt I only had a few months rolive. The news was actually a relief. Iwanted to die and end the misery. I hada friend drive me to a mall later thatweek to buy gifts for my family for thefollowing Christmas, knowing I wasprobably not going to be alive.

While in a B. Dalton Bookstore, aman asked me if I was ok (I could onlywalk maybe 15-20 steps before I had tostop and rest). I said I was fine, becauseI had gotten tired of telling everyonethe story. This guy persisted a bit andhe told me he was a doctor and thatmaybe he could help me. I told htm thad seen some of the best doctors inthe world and then he told me he wasa chiropractor. I think I laughed for thefirst time in over a year. I told him I had

"internal" health problems, not neckand back pain, which was the limit ofmy views on chiropractic. He persistedthat I come to his clinic, and about thistime, my friend offered to drive me tothe clinic the next day. I agreed withabsolutelyno intention of going to thisquacks office. On the drive home, myfriend said something hke, "Well youshould give it a shot. What do you haveto lose?" I agreed to go.

I went to the office the next day anddid the whole new patient process; thedoc brought me into the exam roomand began his exam. I was about as

skeptical as you could be, when all ofa sudden, he says, "Hey Keith, did youhave a bed-wetting problem as a kid?"Wow... how in the world did he knowthat? I had a classic bed-wetting case formost of my childhood for four to fivenights a week. I never spent the nightwith a friend and grew our of it by thetime I was 15-16 years old. My parentsspent all kinds of money on therapiesand treatments, but how could thisquack have known about that? Hetold me he could tell from examiningmy lumbar spine and talked about thebladder and neryes. He now had myattentionl If he pulled that one out ofhis butt, well it was a good one. He

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adjusted me the first day and sent mehome with instructions to return.

I woke up the next morning with a

stiff and sore neck; actually my entireback was sore, not severe pain, butjust very sore. I knew this guy was afraud, I thought to myself, "He hurtsme yesterday and today he is going tofix me up! Sorry, don't buy it. No morechiropractic visits for me." I shaved,

showered and got dressed and as I was

walking down the hall to the kitchen I

was hit with a ton of bricks. I had justslept through the entire night-for thefirst time in about 15 months, had justshowered, shaved, dressed and was notwiped out with fatigue. I was even a bithungry! So I made some scrambledeggs (which I love) and had been unable

to eat for oyer a year. I sat down on thecouch and waited for breakfast to come

back up. It never did.I continued getting adjusted and

flushed the meds within the first week.

It was not short-term miraculous,but each day I got a bit stronger anddo more things. It was a huge victory

to be able to walk to the mailbox andget the mail. Within two weeks I wasdriving again, within two monthsI was back in the gym training andended up far surpassing my previouslifts. But I could not figure out whatchiropractic had done for me. I wouldask the doc and got sort of a vagueanswer. I ended up going to chiropracticorientations at other offices in the area

in hopes of figuring this all out, but Iwas disappointed in that all of the newpatient orientations I attended werespinal hygiene classes: how to lift right,bend your knees, drink water, etc.

I could not find much at the libraryor on periodical microfiches either.Most of what I read tagged chiropracticas being somewhat effective for neckand back pain, and that was it. Finallythe doc gave me some old, mustysmelling books with of a weird greencolor to them and told me that maybeI would find my answers in them. He

had never actually read them. The firstvolume was 'Bigness Of The FellowWithin'by aBJ Palmer. I remember

reading it and thinking this guy wasreally out in left field.

The more I read it, the more sense itmade and I began going to the medicallibrary here in Charleston and readingvolumes of anatomy and physiologybooks, Guyton's, Harrison's, I sawthis incredible congruence betweenthe books on how the body act:uallyworked and Palmers writings.Eventually it sort of clicked in my brainand I retired from competitive lifting inorder to focus on communicating thechiropractic message. I dont always likesharing the message, but I don't feel thatI have the right not to.

If a person rejects the message, thatis fine with me. At that point they are

no longer my responsibility and I canmove on. I don't playgolf or softball.My free time is spent sharing thechiropractic message. I do between 250

and 300 talks each year on chiropracticand plan on doing so as long as I am onthe earth.

I owe that much to the Chiropracticprofession. I

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