One of the shortcomings of chiropractic school — and medical school, for that matter — is that we are trained to be excellent at taking multiple choice tests.
Don’t get me wrong, I understand why.
From an administrative standpoint, multiple choice tests are efficient. They are easy to grade, easy to standardize, and easy to scale. They allow learning institutions to automate what is otherwise a tedious but necessary task.
And before you think I’m reducing doctor training to just filling in bubbles on a Scantron sheet, let me say this: in chiropractic college, I took no less than 75 oral exams. Trust me—if you don’t know, they know.
So what’s my point?
Over the past 30 years, I have witnessed something concerning: the erosion of the doctor-patient relationship.
Something that was once sacred has slowly been commoditized.
Corporate systems have swallowed up private practice. Insurance companies have inserted themselves between doctor and patient, dictating care through limitations, exclusions, and red tape. And when that happens, care gets restructured around efficiency, automation, and standardization.
In other words, it starts to feel an awful lot like a multiple choice test.
But here’s the thing:
You are not a multiple choice test.
You are more complex and nuanced than A, B, C, or D.
Yes, you share patterns with others. That is part of how doctors build experience. You are counting on the fact that I have seen something like this before, solved something like this before, and helped someone like you before.
But at the same time, you are not them.
You have your own story. Your own starting point. Your own responsibilities, goals, and challenges. You have specific things you love to do and specific things you need to do.
And all of that matters.
At Anchor Chiropractic, we take that seriously.
Yes, I am an expert in what I do. But I also recognize that you are an expert in you.
You live in your body. You experience its signals, its patterns, its strengths, and its struggles every single day. In a very real sense, you are the field reporter on the ground, gathering data in real time.
The problem is that most people have never been taught how to gather that data well. They feel things, but do not know what to make of them. They notice symptoms, tension, and changes, but they have never been shown how to read those clues clearly.
That is part of what we do here.
If I can teach you how to see your body differently—how to better recognize its clues and cues—then your awareness and my experience can come together in a much more powerful way.
Now we are no longer forcing your case into a preset answer.
Now we are problem-solving.
Collaboratively.
In real time.
That matters, because some of the best answers are not obvious at first. They are uncovered through listening, observing, testing, responding, and paying attention to what your body is revealing along the way.
Real progress often requires more than choosing between A, B, C, or D. It requires curiosity. It requires partnership. It requires respect for the fact that the person sitting in front of me is not just a case file or a diagnosis, but a human being with a unique story and a unique body.
Because what if the answer was never A, B, C, or D?
What if it was something deeper? Something more specific? Something that actually makes sense—for you?
What if the answer was Z?
