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Upon Their Hands They Will Carry you
Page 21


One Face Sharpens Another

"To walk past the Chiropractor’s sign every day makes me wonder if I shouldn’t give them a call for an appointment for Rhonda." I thought to myself. With this in mind I jotted down their number. The daily meeting of Linda at the park once again brought me by their offices. To be open to anything that might help was necessary and I did call for an appointment after I returned home.

"Come on in, won’t you?" Dr. Mary Cozarth herself invited me into a small office. She was a lovely lady with a touch of some accent. Her plain, graying hair was neatly smoothed back and she was dressed in a dark suit. The woman was very slim and had a quick way of moving. Politely she listened as I answered her questions about Rhonda’s delivery. If she had an opinion one way or another there was nothing voiced on her part. This lively woman so held my attention I can’t remember much about her office and the decorations in it.

"I am not worried about walking and talking at this point," I told her.

"It is the fact that I’m having so much trouble with her bowels. She stays constipated and can’t seem to have a natural movement. Enemas have been the only solution. My husband’s aunt, who is a nurse, taught me how to give her those." This was what was really on my mind and I worried over my child’s general health.

"Bring her back to my treatment room," Dr. Cozarth led the way and I followed her to where a table off to the side of the room dominated the space.

"I can help her but you must bring her in weekly. I’ll give you a diet and you must adhere to it without fail. Do not give her anymore water enemas, instead, warm olive oil like you would warm a baby’s bottle and use that. The diet isn’t difficult it is just good balanced, portions of food but I want you to do one extra thing. You must cook a sweet potato for her, daily. After a week you shouldn’t have to give her any more enemas." These were the instructions the doctor had printed of on a piece of paper.

Methodically we followed the doctor’s instructions and in a short time Rhonda’s health improved with no more need for enemas. Almost like a miracle Rhonda began to creep on her hands and knees. It all seemed too wonderful a thing to happen. Whatever the chiropractor was doing certainly helped.

The season was now winter but the sunny crisp days were too inviting for us to stay inside. I bundled Rhonda up in her warmest clothing and away we went to the park to meet Linda and her son. We had all become friends, Linda, myself, her son and my daughter and looked forward to spending time together. I went with Linda to her appointments for therapy with her son and the doctors there at the University set up appointments for Rhonda to come at the same time. So began the scheduled therapy for her.

Linda’s son was able to stand alone with his braces and crutches but Rhonda couldn’t. With her problem of no balance and her hands being so involved there was no way she could hold the crutches. Nevertheless, we went through the paces, religiously. The parallel bars were one thing they were trying to use because Rhonda could hold on to them with her one hand to follow through for a short distance. Dragging the heavy braces along as she tried to take steps was unbelievably difficult for a child.

So many times in our life we look back and wish we would have done something different. If I had known about the disagreement between entities regarding the acceptable ways of treating disabled people maybe there would have been an ability for standing up for something that was working.

The chiropractor’s good advice on health and diet made the difference. The only physical improvement toward Rhonda's being able to use her body was brought about by these treatments. No direct confrontation with medical people came about. Everything to pull us away from the chiropractor, as I see it now, was done in an insidious way.

There was no way to know the best thing to happen was what I was doing as far as the interaction with Rhonda and the children around us. They were natural therapists and created happy moments of play to stimulate her brain. Even the Christian scriptures tell us, "one face sharpens another."

Whatever the chiropractor was doing, worked. If only I had known this was far better than the braces being used by the other doctors I would have taken a stand. My ignorance made it too easy to be diverted by what appeared to be a magnanimous society of medical people in huge castle like buildings setting at the top of the hill. I, like Eve, was deceived.


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