As a practising hypochondriac I have never been slow to react to a bodily function giving me distress. Anything from man flu upwards usually necessitates a Google health check, or a conversation with someone in the medical fraternity. In my quest for immortality this proportionate response has given me a high degree of reassurance. However, a recent turn of events exposed a fault line in my frame of mind; for me, a trigger event was always necessary ─ be it a pain, a lump, or a strange seepage ─ I was purely reactive.
Whilst giving my best buddy Arthur a lift on my shoulders (aged three, why wear your little legs out too early?), comment was made about my gait. At first I wondered why anyone would want to talk about the old battered one swinging at the side of my house. Having qualified the statement, I immediately thought of my late grandma who walked with a pronounced shuffle. I wasn’t conscious of walking abnormally, although, on reflection, who could be – unless it was bleeding obvious, and on this occasion it wasn’t. It hadn’t peaked to cause any discomfort, and my daily physical activities were not impeded. Nonetheless, this commentary played on my mind – as it would for any self-respecting neurotic.
Then, by chance, I received the opportunity to confront the reality, or otherwise, of my feasibly faulty footwork: a freebie with a local chiropractor. To be honest, I didn’t have much idea what such a professional does, let alone whether they occupy some pseudo-medical platform where potions, lotions, and witches’ brews are bottled in small blue vials. My internal anguish was compounded by the very thought that I may have one leg longer than the other, and that, in time, I may develop a potentially hereditary health issue. Notwithstanding that, a freebie would inevitably mean that it was going to cost me.
The day arrived and after a pre-screening health conversation I assumed the position and waited to be prodded and probed, but to my surprise a tape measure was whipped out and my lower limbs were measured. They were identical – not a millimetre off kilter. Perfect. Hallelujah! The follow up news was less good – my pelvis was misaligned ─ poor posture and a more sedentary lifestyle were the probable culprits; on the plus side, it was repairable.
And so it began – a series of pushes, squashes, and compressions, all delivered by a highly skilled practitioner, whilst I mostly grunted and groaned (in relief rather than agony). The work was orientated around my spine – the primary bone structure allowing mobility and the most important facets of my life: independence and freedom. What a docile dork I’d been in neglecting this vital key to health and wellbeing; but was I being unduly harsh on myself? I am a champion reactive patient but had demonstrated a significant deficit in my attitude towards proactivity. Was I alone?
Rather than conducting a scoping enquiry with fellow human beings, I decided to go off-piste and ask Artificial Intelligence what it had to say about this strictly human trait. Asking the Microsoft Bing version, my virtual assistant delivered the following analysis:
“There are many reasons why we aren’t proactive in health issues. One reason is that people often don’t take their health seriously until they get sick. Another reason is that many people don’t have access to affordable healthcare or preventative care. Additionally, some people may not have the knowledge or resources to take care of their health properly.
However, there are many benefits to being proactive about your health. Preventative care can help you catch health problems early on, when they’re easier to treat. It can also help you avoid more serious health problems down the line.
If you’re interested in learning more about preventative care and how you can be more proactive about your health, I recommend checking out this article from Healthline . It provides a great overview of what preventative care is and why it’s important.
I hope this helps!”
Sage words from my synthetic sponsor that I have embraced, and suggest (if you are like me) that you do as well, as once the reactive signs take hold it may – in some circumstances – be too late.
My visits to the chiropractor have become routine, since I want to maintain my more elegant stance and lessen the obvious ravages of old age. I also now have, amongst other pre-emptive checks and balances, an annual ultrasound that provides a detailed inspection of the internal workings of the Kirke machine.
With this new mindset, and the words of Irene Cara resonating in my consciousness, I just want to shout, “I’m gonna live forever!”
© Ian Kirke 2023
@ianjkirke
Title photograph by Joyce Hankins on Unsplash