Like many of you, I have visited many chiropractors. Some are great and have given me wonderful relief, as in ART or similar approaches. Unfortunately the reputation of chiropractic has been hurt by the practices of a minority who see only dollar signs and use fear of bodily decrepitude as a means of encouraging patients to continue to visit for treatment. Last summer I wrote the following "Ask Spareribs" column, which caused quite a bit of controversy, as you will see: Dear Spareribs: I’ve had a lot of pain lately in my upper leg and hip and I can’t run at all. Friends recommended their own chiropractors, but I’m not sure if I should go to theirs, find my own, or go at all. Do you have any advice? Do you know a good chiropractor? David L. in Dallas Dear David: Great use of the oxymoron. Actually, you have asked the right guy, as I attended a chiropractic school briefly. (I left because I couldn’t adjust.) Here’s how to get the most out of the chiropractor visit. You know they always spend a bit of time poking and prodding before they actually get to work on you. But what you want them to do is skip that and fix you up. What I learned is that all the poking stuff is just to lead up to the THREE MAJOR PRONOUNCEMENTS. Here they are: 1) The Death Knell: This is the part, just after the initial probes and prods, where the chiropractor tells you that you are fortunate you got here just hours before death from a crappy body. He will say he never saw (check one): Hips this tight (did I write Mick Jagger on the form I filled out?) A spine so out of alignment (I should ring bells at Notre Dame?) Less flexibility than you have (Does Gumby run 50 miles a week?) In short, tomorrow every cell in your body will break into a cancerous frenzy and all your bone and cartilage will erode and cause a painful and horrible death. How fortunate you came here today! 2) Believe it or Not!: Once you are terrified about your horrible body, he moves to step two, known as “Ripley’s Believe it or Not.” In this step he looks gravely into your eyes, puts on his saddest basset hound face, leans close and says, “I don’t know how to break this to you…but one of your legs is shorter than the other.” Sweat breaks out all over, as you think about buying one wooden shoe, playing Igor in a sci-fi film, or keeping one foot on the curb as you walk down the street. Of course you fall for this only one time, not knowing that everyone in the universe has the same condition. Here’s what actually happens when the chiropractor goes home, end of day: “How did it go today honey?” “Fantastic! I got four people on the one leg shorter than the other routine. Laugh? Scared hell out of them. What’s for dinner?” 3) The Annuity: Now you are paralyzed with fear, and he delivers the coup: “This may take more than one visit.” Or, “You’re going to need to work with me on this.” What a surprise! Just don’t sign any auto-deduct form to move money from your bank to his SEP. You’ll know pretty quickly if you’re getting the help you need. So by all means go to a recommended chiropractor if you think it will help, but on your first visit bring this article, show it to him and say, “Let’s skip the Three Major Pronouncements and get to work on my (insert name of body part.)” Good luck. Spareribs