Thursday, July 31, 2008
Get Graham
Years ago I acquired that celebrated affliction A Bad Back. A suave consultant made a steeple of his fingers and referred me to his physiotherapists who, like bankers, are said to know a thing or two. With a large, floppy plastic model they explained to me the workings of the spine and the way in which what they recommended would cure me of my pain - though I would have to carry a cylindrical cushion around with me for the rest of my life. I followed their advice, the pain intensified. I pointed this out, but, as they knew a thing or two, they refused to believe me and insisted I must be doing something wrong. Finally an operation - that seldom, I later learned, works - loomed. A friend suggested I call one Graham Tuthill, a shiatsu masseur. He cured me completely in two sessions by, in part, doing the opposite of the physiotherapists. If I ever get another twinge, he comes along and cures me again. I carry no cushion. He also cured Nige's back and, on one memorable occasion, the three of us went on a celebratory bender in Lewes, where, I am told, they still burn Catholics, but not Texan Jews. Graham now has a web site. I have no views on the theory behind his latest therapy. All I know is Graham is a good man and a natural healer who really does know a thing or two. In short, if you have A Bad Back or almost any other affliction or, indeed, you feel the occasional urge to drink lots of beer and make a fool of yourself, get Graham.
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A blog about, among other things, imaginary ideas - What ifs? and Imagine thats. What if photographs looked nothing like what we see with our eyes? Imagine that the Berlin Wall had never come down. What if we were the punchline of an interminable joke? All contributions welcome.
A lot of that kind of pain is down to carbon monoxide buildup in the body. Between gasfires and all the other sources, and wall vents designed to extract heat -top of the wall/window rather than noxious gases, heavier that air needing a bottom of the wall or in the floor type of vent.
ReplyDeleteIt is a blessed wonder that we are not all doubled over and locked in agony. Mind you it helps a bit if one warms up exercise-wise before a longish trip in a car.
There's no getting away from Texas. The therapy offered by your contact was "the brainchild of Dr. V. B. Chrane" who hailed from Texas and who "started practicing it in the 1920s near Abilene." That's, er, Abilene, Texas. Well, so says the internet. I wonder if cowboy boots and a ten gallon hat cure arthritis.
ReplyDeleteA v. useful contact to have given the mysteries of painful joints versus mad doctors. Many thanks for it.
Does he have a pony tail? I won't be touched by a man with a pony tail. I'd go drinking though, providing he hasn't also got male pattern baldness...
ReplyDelete...apart from that, bloody hippy!
As someone who spends 7 hours a day typing physiotherapists' letters to GPs & consultants, okay i should spend 7 hours a day but somehow found myself doing other things too (like this), i can say that to go by the letters about 90% of patients do improve, either mildly or a great deal.
ReplyDeleteStill, there are always patients who stubbornly refuse to get better, usually because they like being contrary.
No ponytail, Ian - perish the thought. He does, in addition to his other gifts, also have excellent taste in music, and his recommendations are always worth following up, sometimes life-changingly so.
ReplyDeleteTexas is the omphalos, man. You know those Pringles crisps, the ones that when you pop you just can't stop? The machine for slicing them was invented by famed SF author Gene Wolfe. He was actually born in New York, but in order to attain the scientific mastery required to engineer such an ingenious device he had to study for years at Texas A & M University and the University of Houston. Nuff said.
ReplyDeleteElberry, it wasn't you who brewed up that NHS physio's pre first consultation questionnaire gibberish was it? questions akin to.. which knee? is it sore? define sore, how sore, how often? wot does a hospital look like, would you recognize a physio if you saw one. Three pages of gov't employee grade one tripe, no wonder Gordons fidgeting with his nadgers so often. Still, two or three weeks hence, he'll be fidgeting with Harriets nadgers
ReplyDelete