I'm conducting my one-day Disruptive Patient Communications seminars in Australia next month. In a recent promotional email to Australian chiropractors I listed some of my credentials:

"I've been receiving weekly chiropractic care since 1981. I'm currently seeing my 9th chiropractor. I've conducted 54 patient focus groups. I've published 10 books and written over 700 blog posts about chiropractic and chiropractors."

Granted, an unsolicited email can produce unsubscribes and even spam complaints, but I was astonished when it resulted in this chiropractor's one line response:

"If you have been to a dc EVERY WEEK for 33 years you are an idiot!"

Wow. So there you have it. Hate mail. Complete with name-calling. All in one short succinct sentence. It got me to thinking.

Am I an idiot?

Just to be sure I looked up the definition. As I assumed, an idiot is "an utterly foolish or senseless person; a stupid person." The British Dictionary added "a person with severe mental retardation." That's probably not what he meant. So I'm left with being a fool, senseless, and stupid.

Have all these years of adjustments served no purpose? Have I been misled by the belief that ongoing chiropractic care has value? Have I merely wasted my time and money all these years?

Since most criticism reveals more about the critic than what is being criticized, I did some sleuthing. Based on his email address I tracked down his website and discovered that this chiropractor has a practice that appears focused on pain relief. No wonder it made my life choices seem odd, even foolish to him. Why would anyone need continued treatment? Had I been the victim of nine consecutively incompetent chiropractors and not known any better?

Over the years I've made the assertion that beliefs are the parents of behaviors. If you want to know what someone believes, simply reverse engineer his or her behaviors. In fact, my Disruptive Patient Communications seminar is based on making the distinction between knowing and doing; beliefs and behaviors and how to best influence patients. What do I believe that has produced weekly visits to my nine chiropractors all these years? Great question.

• I believe that our in-utero experience significantly affects our health potential and that the birth process produces our first major spinal insult.


• I believe that uncorrected slips and falls associated with learning to walk, riding a bicycle and other childhood mishaps can set in motion many of the spinal problems seen later in adults.


• I believe that since I didn't get my first adjustment until I was 29 years old, long after growth plates disappeared, my established patterns of muscle and soft tissue damage couldn't be completely reversed, so supporting my spine with regular care is more likely than "fixing" the effects of three decades of adaptation.


• I believe that regular chiropractic care enhances physical, mental and emotional function in the same way the regular brushing and flossing enhances dental hygiene.
  
• I believe that due to the physical, chemical and emotional stresses of contemporary living, I benefit from ongoing chiropractic care, if for no other reason than to help me accommodate the relentless effects of gravity.


• I believe that gravity eventually wins and until then, I have the best opportunity to function at my best and live life to the full by having an optimally functioning nervous system which is enhanced with regular care.


• I believe that my chiropractic care is largely responsible for me not seeing a medical doctor in decades, successfully avoiding all prescription medication, not getting sick (not even a cold) and being able to remain highly active into now, my 70s.

It should be no surprise that these beliefs would manifest in weekly visits to a chiropractor. Yet, to someone whose vision is limited, the choice to see a chiropractor on such a frequent basis probably seems idiotic. However, with a n=1, like so many things, we'll never know for sure until there's a parallel universe to test against a control.