I’ve borrowed the title of Sarah Polley’s book for this post. I just finished reading it and give it five stars. It’s not a memoir, exactly. It’s a collection of essays about pivotal times in her life. (It was published last year, before she won the Oscar for Women Talking.)
…My chiropractor is simply wonderful. She’s thoughtful and smart. She’s the woman who fixed my neck within seconds of our first meeting, after I endured two years of migraines and trying out all sorts of experts who couldn’t do it. I will always be grateful. Like me, she lost her Dad recently, so she knows how it feels. …
It’s been nearly three months, so it appears it’s finally safe to say that I’ve been cured! …
I don’t like to whine. I enjoy it, but I don’t like to do it. Â …
Every once in a while I forget I’m not supposed to lift anything heavy. After all, this not-lifting thing is only a couple of years old, since my whiplash injury in a car accident on Springbank Drive in February 2011. I’ve taken good care of it and recovered quite nicely. …
My massage therapist is a terrific guy.  He’s young, with a young family and I know he doesn’t have a ton of cash.  He rents a room in my chiropractor’s office and he’s a Registered Massage Therapist, not one of your spa ladies who lays stones on your spine and relaxes you but can’t give you a receipt for your workplace health coverage reimbursement. …