Our annual neighborhood Christmas party was this past weekend. It’s the one night a year when the entire neighborhood ceases their busy schedules, gathers by the lake, and loads up the potluck tables with impressive-looking dishes while chatting with people we somehow haven’t seen since last December… despite living 40 yards apart.
One of my Italian neighbors brought his annual ginormous tray of homemade mac and cheese.
He told me it was too heavy to carry. I believed him.
He made so much that he had to wheel it over like he was delivering a newborn calf.
It didn’t look like a side dish… it looked like he was catering a wedding.
Then, the Palm Beach Gardens Fire and Rescue rolled in on their lime-green firetruck, lights flashing, sirens blazing, and horns honking to deliver Santa.
And let me tell you, this guy was Santa.
He looked exactly like the Santa every child draws in kindergarten.
Short. Round. Red suit. Real white beard, mustache, wire-rim glasses. Black boots shiny enough to check your hair in. The whole North Pole package.
The kids swarmed him instantly, like ducks spotting a retiree unloading Wonder Bread as if it were their last meal before winter.
Santa made his way up the steps to the gazebo… and then almost didn’t.
He tripped, stumbled, and somehow pulled off a recovery that defied both physics and his age bracket.
Later, my wife told me Santa had mentioned he had a bad knee,
but not bad enough to keep him from delivering cheer to all the kids. Our youngest was so excited. She is only seven years old, so the magic of Christmas is still alive in her.
All my other kids have retired from the Santa club; too old, too big, or too cool to sit on the lap of a man who travels by firetruck.
It was a bittersweet moment.
These seasons don’t just go fast…
they go turbo-boost fast.
A little later, a friendly neighbor found out I was a chiropractor and immediately started sharing his entire “back tragedy” to me.
He told me he twisted the wrong way, his back went out, and he spent the next 30 straight hours stuck in his recliner.
Not sleeping.
Not resting.
Just held hostage by La-Z-Boy… for thirty hours.
Then I talked with another neighbor who was thinking of wrapping his huge oak tree with lights by himself.
His wife was not on board, understandably so, since last year he fell off the ladder, broke some ribs and still checks his blind spots by rotating his whole torso like Batman.
When I suggested he hire someone to do the job for him.
He said it cost too much… around $800 to $1,000.
So I asked, “How much is your health insurance deductible?”
He paused, smiled, and said something like, “Alright… point taken.”
And because no Christmas party is complete without a spirited debate, this year’s big question was:
“Should we have a firepit?!”
You would’ve thought we were voting on national security.
Some neighbors were concerned about kids, sparks, and the fire developing a personality and wandering off into Palm Beach Gardens.
My wife and I were all in for the kids…bring on the s’mores!
Someone volunteered to “monitor” it, until he saw my wife helping kids roast marshmallows.
“Oh good, looks like you’ve got this,” he said cheerfully and disappeared behind the mac-and-cheese table.
So my wife became the unofficial Fire Marshal, and I pulled up two chairs for us to sit together.
A full moon rose over the lake.
It was peaceful, quiet, and my favorite part of the whole evening.
And as I pondered the whole evening, the twinkling lights, the firepit, Santa nursing a knee, the recliner-survivor guy, and our neighborhood stuntman, I began to see something clearly…
People take better care of their decorations than their bodies.
They’ll replace a $4 bulb instantly…
…but wait six months to address the knee that sounds like it’s making popcorn.
They’ll get on a ladder in flip-flops…
…but won’t schedule a tune-up for the only body they get on this planet.
They’ll go full Mission Impossible with holiday decorations… …but won’t invest in the spine carrying the mission.
Here’s the truth nobody likes but everyone needs:
It costs way less to maintain a body than to repair one.
So this Christmas season, while you’re decorating everything in sight, remember:
Your health isn’t seasonal.
Your spine doesn’t go back in the attic in January.
Take care of it before it demands its own emergency meeting.
Have a Terrific Tuesday!
Dr. Derek “Firepit Deputy” Taylor
PS: Christmas Pie Day is coming!
On Monday, December 22nd, everyone who comes in for a scheduled visit receives a complimentary Christmas Pie, our little way of saying thank you.
New patients can also take advantage of our $97 Christmas Special, which includes:
- Comprehensive spinal exam (X-rays if needed)
- Taylor Method evaluation
- 3D FootLevelers posture scan
- Robotic chair massage
- TheraLight 360 red light session
- PEMF therapy
- Plus a Christmas Pie
Give us a call at (561) 867-1020 to reserve a spot, appointments fill quickly.
(PI patients excluded due to legal restrictions.)
