How a Chiropractor committed Cat slaughter

Dear Health Council of Canada,

A composite render of Dr. Hurtsubitch

I am hereby submitting my complaint about the Ottawa based Chiropractor; Slavek Hurtsubitch.
Not only is he unqualified for Medical Healthcare, he also is responsible for the death of my poor little kitten, Mittens.

Here is what happened:

A few weeks ago I was manhandled into going to a Home and Garden show by my girlfriend. Now before you mock me, she has Black Belts in both “Murder-You-Jitsu” & “Kung-Fuck you up”, but I still put up a pretty good fight, yet, not enough to weasel myself out of this day of dragging my feet across a whole bunch of stuff that didn’t really interest me. There were a few cool Jacuzzis with TV’s in them and I saw a pretty awesome axe. (IF only I had that during our fight).
At the end of the day, we inevitably came across the commercial booths manned by a pack of rabid hyenas, trying to sell their shitty products and convince unsuspecting victims there their Auras are off by a few shades of magenta. (Did you know Magenta dye is categorized as “Can possibly give you cancer”?)
Anyway, one of the booths was from a health clinic ran by doctor Slavek Hurtsubitch and he was giving having a draw to win a free Health assessment. This was something I thought was funny, because I love hearing from Medical Personnel how awesome I am and I could already picture myself being used as an example in Med School as a “Healthy Specimen”. Little did I know I filled in a “Form of Creeping Death” and dropped it in the draw box.

Either by Karma, Bad Luck or Pure Skill my name got picked and a few days later I was invited to come and see Dr. Hurtsubitch. I should have known something was wrong when I received the instructions to get to his clinic. I was supposed to wait in a parking garage for a white van and had to give a password to the guys that picked me up to make sure they had the right victim. I was blindfolded during the way, to ensure I could never find the clinic by myself.

When I finally made it to his Lair of Agony I had to sign a stack of waivers and my fingerprints were taken as well. However, my sense of adventure won over my common sense (as always) so I was all like, “this is exciting!” I finally got to see the doctor (after paying off the bouncer) and I was a little surprised by his appearance. Since when do they make lab coats out of orange leather?
But to be fair, I’ve never seen a Chiropractor before, so I gave him the benefit of the doubt.

For someone who looked like the Butcher of Stalingrad he was actually quite friendly and he seemed genuinely interested in my organs. He examined my spine with some homemade technology that probably gave him a Thetan reading at the same time and asked me if I had any health issues.

Now, I wouldn’t consider my “issue” a health issue. My Acid Reflux happens to be related to the fact that I am actually 37% Dragon. It makes me pretty damn cool in everyday life (Like destroying small villages) but it also has its downside. My Fire breathing gland acts up when I eat too much spicy food. This obviously doesn’t stop me from eating said spicy food, but I do have to deal with the consequences. I explained this to him and he didn’t quite believe my story. Not because my story isn’t believable enough, but because he already had his own story ready on how it is all related to my spine being off centered and crooked.
He asked me if I ever hurt my back in the past and I remembered that I did.

Eyjafjallajokul. It was such a heated battle that half of Europe was canceling flights because of the dust we were kicking up. About 3 weeks into this fight, Captain Harrrrbringer of Death kicked me in the back with his Platinum Reinforced wooded leg and it REALLY hurt. However, I threw him in the Lava shortly after and that is why you get to read this letter in the first place instead of rowing below deck for the rest of your life.

Because the Doctor made this connection for me, Confirmation Bias kicked in and it really sounded legit. When he noticed he had sunk his sneaky hooks into my soul, he mentioned I would have to come back for another session. I had to leave behind my passport and PIN number and I also wasn’t allowed to use the Internet until we could meet again.Of course the only thing that can keep me away from the Internet is an army of Ninjas so the first thing I did was Google his name on the Internet and see if I could find any correlation between Acid Reflux and Spines. The only connection I found was some dude in Barcelona who marinated Rabbit Spine in Banana peppers for 3 weeks, ate it and got severe heartburn afterwards.
I also found out that Hurtsubitch wasn’t aligned with the Chiropractor Association of Canada but with the “Association of Fake Doctors that cannot get membership with the Chiropractor Association of Canada”. This time my Common Sense kicked in, but immediately lost to my curiosity and my desire to ask quacks really annoying questions about their malpractices.

So I decided to go ahead and see the Dr. again, but this time I was armed with KNOWLEDGE!
(Instead of my usual Fists of Fury)

The next visit had the same routine except I didn’t need a password. They just shot me in the back of the head with a tranquillizer gun and woke up in the Doctors Office again.
The Doctor was ready to wrap me up, thinking I was as gullible as last time, so I immediately went on the offense and asked him how his little Spine Measuring Device worked and how it could tell that my Nerves were getting rowdy. He said it was just technology and that it would take too long to explain to an Unknowing One like me.
 
He then set me up for a test that was going to give him all the answers.
I had to stand on a piece of paper and he drew the outlines of my feet. Then he told me to close my eyes and march on the spot 5 times while singing the Polish Anthem. When I said I didn’t know the Polish Anthem he said that probably had to do with a pinched nerve in between my fourth and fifth vertebrae.

Hurtsubitch challenging my joints

So I let him do his little test and instead of fixing my limbs an excruciating pain shoots through my spine.
“Yes, it usually hurts the first time” he said. “Now your legs are better, but we are not going to do the Marchy Thingy again”. I asked him what exactly this did to my Spine, joints and Nerves and his literal response was “If I’d try to explain that, it would be like trying to explain what it feels like to stick your head underwater to someone who’s never been wet”. However, It would be better to sign a contract/treatment plan for 4 months so we could do the Marchy Thingy again in 4 months and see if there was any improvements.

I politely told him that before I would start a treatment plan I would like some more information on this so I could research this and see if it would be beneficial. This angered the Mad Scientist again and he basically told me to “Fuck Off” and he wouldn’t take me as a patient. I wished him the top of the morning and secretly hoped an Ebola infected Pigeon would fly into his mouth during his lunch break.

Since this treatment, my back has been literally killing me and I have been cremated twice already.
What I didn’t realize is that in my will I stated that I wanted to be cremated with my cat, assuming I would outlive her. She didn’t survive the 900 degrees Celsius in the oven and is not part dragon like me, so didn’t make it back to the world of the living.  If the Health Council of Canada would keep a better eye on well known quacks, this would never have happened.

Mittens was also not amused.

As you can imagine, I am not amused

-Dave Stevens