Skip to main content

Practiced Hands


“Dr. Burch To Retire After 55 Years Of Local Service” was the headline I read on the front page of The Fulton Democrat. I was compelled to buy that newspaper, why? Let me tell you the rest of the story.

Harry E. Burch, D.C. was my family's chiropractor since the early 1960s. A graduate of Palmer College of Chiropractic in Davenport, Iowa, in 1959. He opened his practice in Lewistown, Illinois less than 15 minutes from our home in Cuba.

I met Dr. Burch in 1972 when one day at school I remember getting kicked in the seat of the pants by a kid just joking around. The next day my lower back hurt; I mentioned it to my Mom and without hesitation, she said “Let’s go see Doc Burch he’ll fix you right up.”

He examined me patiently with practiced hands. “Lie down on your back, lift your left leg, now hold it,” he said.

I could not.

“Looks like we need an X-ray,” said Doc Burch.

We watched him study the X-ray. “It appears you have something more than just misalignment,” he said. “You have a congenital condition called Spondylolisthesis.”

“What’s that?” my Mom asked.

“The last vertebrae is separated from the spine and is pinching the spinal cord. This causes lower back pain and numbness or weakness in one or both legs. Severe trauma to the lower back could cause paralysis of the legs. But don’t just take my word for it. There is a bone and joint specialist in Peoria I would like you to see to confirm my diagnoses.”

Inevitably we did. As a result I received a college disability scholarship.

“Can it be fixed?” was my question.

“Yes,” he said. “Most doctors will tell you it requires a fusion surgery, (then very dangerous) however with some simple guidelines to follow; proper exercise and keeping your weight down, I believe we can keep this under control for your lifetime.”

So, that’s what I did. I’ve followed the simple guidelines below now for over 42 years. Wow, was it really that long ago?

Here are the guidelines from Doc Burch: Strengthen your core; back and stomach muscles. Stretching exercises. Keep your weight down, maintain fitness by walking, swimming, or cycling. Avoid long distance running, it’s hard on your joints and hips. When you have pain come to the office (no appointment required) and we will adjust your spine to keep you in balance. 

I just want to say thank you Dr. Burch for your encouragement, patience, and skill all these years. You're the best. I’ve been able to lead a normal life free from pain or sacrificing any recreational activities. Your dedicated service to the community was exemplary!

For those readers who discredit the art of Chiropractic don't take my word for it, talk to anyone throughout Central Illinois. You will hear nothing but words of praise and love for Doc Burch.

Comments

Most Popular of All Time

A Game for the Ages

Game One: Yankees 3 vs. Dodgers 6 - A Game for the Ages 120th World Series –  Forty-three years of anticipation culminated in a clash of titans, a World Series showdown between two baseball dynasties. And what a way to kick off this historic series! The stage was set: bottom of the tenth, bases loaded, two outs. The hero? A hobbled Freddie Freeman, his ankle injury a testament to his grit and determination. The pitch soared, a moment suspended in time. Then, a thunderous crack of the bat. The ball arced skyward, a breathtaking flight toward rightfield. A collective gasp, a hush, then a roar. The ball cleared the fence, a grand slam of epic proportions: a walk-off masterpiece, the first in World Series history! As the echoes of the crowd’s jubilation filled the stadium, Vin Scully’s iconic voice rang out in the minds of Dodger fans: “High fly ball into right field, she is gone!” It was a fitting tribute to a moment that defied all expectations. Yankees 3—Dodgers 6. In a year of the unex

Dawn's Embrace

In this episode - Dawn’s Embrace . . .   In the quiet hours before dawn breaks, The darkness whispers, and my spirit wakes. For in my hands, tomorrow lies— A chance to reach, to strive, to rise. With steady focus, I find my way, Turning each task into light for the day. Not every path is smooth or clear, Yet I push forward, shedding fear. Life may bring disappointments, it's true. My dreams are mine, and I'll see them through. My attitude is my own to steer, and No One else shapes the hope I hold dear. So I start each morning with a heart alight, Embracing dawn’s gentle, hopeful sight. For love, for dreams, I’ll build and grow, Sharing this warmth with all I know. In each sunrise, I find the key— The dawn of hope that lives in me.  . . . Welcome to this week's episode of On The Fly . The previous poem was written the day after the election results. Yes, we’ve made it through another presidential election cycle. Everyone at work was gloomy, angry, frustrated, and could not

The Power of a Thank-You Note

In this episode, The Power of a Thank-You Note . . . Halloween night is a time for spooky fun and neighborhood camaraderie. As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the streets, neighbors emerged from their homes, transforming their driveways into festive candy stations. A familiar face caught my eye as I strolled around the neighborhood, taking in the sights and chitchatting with the neighbors. It was a neighbor I hadn't spoken to in years, a young mother whose daughter had interviewed me for a school project on gemstones and the GIA in 2014. As I approached her, a spark of nostalgia ignited. "So, how old is your daughter now?" I asked, curious about her journey. "She's 23," she replied, a smile spreading across her face. "She's studying architecture now." I was taken aback. "That can't be possible," I exclaimed. "It feels like she interviewed me for her school project just yesterday." Time had s

GridBot & Gramps

In this episode, GridBot and Gramps . . .   – Meanwhile, back in Greenwood, Dr. Jon Gellborn, Ph.D., sat at his cluttered desk, the dim glow of his ancient desktop flickering as he pecked at the keyboard. His workspace, a chaotic mix of handwritten notes, old newspapers, and dog-eared magazines, mirrored his frustration. Marvin’s grandfather was a relic of an analog world, though he tried to keep up with the times. For the past week, he’d been baffled as to why Marvin had hurriedly left town, disappearing to the High Sierras without much explanation. “Mary, have you heard from Marvin?” he called out, frowning at his inbox. “He isn’t answering my emails.” From the kitchen, his daughter Mary poked her head around the corner. “Dad, remember? Marvin’s off-grid on that fishing trip. There is no service out there in the mountains. He’ll be back soon.” Dr. Jon sighed, fiddling with his outdated oversized flip phone. “This old PC . . . I can’t get my blog post sent to my friends on Facebook.