“Sort of. She said they were behind her eyes, more on the right than the left. She said she gets them when she is under stress, and with her new job she said she was under a lot of stress.”
“Her mother told me you had suggested she see a chiropractor.” Jack kept his voice neutral to avoid casting blame.
“She said ibuprofen wasn’t helping, so I suggested my chiropractor.”
“Did she take your advice?”
“It sounded like she was going to, but I don’t know for sure. The last time I spoke with her was last Wednesday.”
“What is this chiropractor’s name?”
“Dr. Ronald Newhouse. He’s a wonderful doctor.”
“When you say ‘doctor,’ you are aware he’s not a medical doctor?”
“He’s a doctor, he just can’t do surgery or prescribe drugs.”
Jack felt his anger seeping back, but he fought against it. He wasn’t going to be able to change Nichelle’s ideas about this, but he couldn’t let her misconception go completely unchallenged. “Your chiropractor calls himself a doctor, but he is a doctor of chiropractic, not a doctor of medicine. Can you tell me where Dr. Newhouse has his office?”
“Fifth Avenue between Sixty-fourth and Sixty-fifth. Hold on and I’ll get you the telephone number.”
In a moment Nichelle came back on the line. After she gave Jack the number, he asked, “How long have you been a patient of his?”
“About eight years. He’s been my savior. I see him for almost everything.”
“What do you see him for specifically?”
“Whatever ails me: sinusitis, mostly. That and gastric reflux. I’d be a wreck if it weren’t for Dr. Newhouse.”
“Ms. Barlow,” Jack began, then paused. For a moment he mulled over what he wanted to say. “I’m curious to know how your chiropractor treats your sinusitis.”
“He adjusts me. Usually he works on my cervical vertebrae, but sometimes my lumbar. I’ve got one hip higher than the other, and my back is a mess, but it’s definitely getting better. You should see the changes in my X-rays. It’s remarkable.”
“Does he take spine X-rays often?” Jack asked, horrified at the thought. The radiation required for spinal radiology was significant.
“Most every visit,” Nichelle said proudly, as if she thought the more X-rays, the better. “He’s a very, very thorough doctor. The best that I’ve ever been to, truly.”
Jack cringed at this inappropriate glowing assessment of someone who was treating sinusitis undoubtedly caused by an overgrowth of bacteria with potentially dangerous cervical manipulation and unneccessary radiation to boot! Even if the machine was digital, over time the dose would add up.
“Thank you for your help, Ms. Barlow,” Jack said, making an effort to avoid the temptation to contradict the woman. The fact that a seemingly intelligent and educated person could hold such off-the-wall opinions in this day and age was a mystery to him. But he didn’t dwell on it.
Jack disconnected rather abruptly. He knew that had he not done so, he surely would have ended up lecturing Nichelle about her need to apply a modicum of her intelligence to her health-care choices. She was admittedly using her chiropractor as a GP. Without even replacing the handset, he began dialing Ronald Newhouse’s office. At about the halfway point he stopped, paused, then put the receiver it its cradle. He still felt enraged, and in that state of mind he was prescient enough to know he couldn’t have a coherent conversation. The idea that the man truly believed he could treat a sinus infection with spinal adjustment was execrable. The man had to be a charlatan.