A visit to a craniosacral therapist and an introduction to an obscure but pleasurable—and highly effective—ADHD treatment.
In the scene in Young Frankenstein just before Dr. Frankenstein (as played by the hilarious Gene Wilder) turns the monster’s life around, he strokes the bewildered face of his creation (played by the delightful Peter Boyle) and cries out, “If I could just find a way to balance hiscerebro-spinal fluid, he would be right as rain!”
I burst out laughing (as one does, watching this comedy classic) because screenwriter Mel Brooks really got that one right! Craniosacral therapy can really sort you out.
When Enzo fell down the stairs at age three (a long and horrible story that includes an exuberant puppy at the top of the stairs that got between dad and the toddler), I took him to a chiropractor, since a cracked tailbone as a teen had taught me how a good chiropractor can speed up the healing process. The doctor offered to do someCraniosacral therapy. I said what?
She showed me the picture of a boxer in the midst of getting smashed in the face, and you could see how misshapen his head was. “Our skull has joints,” she explained, “that don’t move very much, but when they get out of whack they can cause a lot of problems.” It really helped Enzo, and he loved the treatment so much he’d often ask me for a head rub before bed. “Do it just like the chiropractor did it,” he would insist.
It wasn’t until years later, when I was being treated for my whiplash n’ concussion, that I learned CST is used, sometimes, for ADHD. This was no surprise to me, since my head always felt so much clearer and less foggy after a treatment. “There was one guy I knew,” the doctor told me as she pressed her fingers into my skull, “who was having so much success helping kids with ADHD that the Ritalin people smeared his business and he had to fight to keep his license.” Which, if it is true, is quite a shame. ADD meds are so powerful and effective and well-established that “The Ritalin People” need not fear natural care. As a matter of fact, they could afford to help the little guys—maybe by funding some blind, controlled scientific studies, to legitimize the truckloads of anecdotal evidence. When physical trauma is at the root of their symptoms, people need true healing.
I went online when I got home, and did some research on CST and ADHD. There are pages of stories and studies that show CST's positive benefits for hyperactivity, impulsivity, and sensitivity. Of course there are also plenty of studies that show it is ineffective (knock it off, Ritalin People!)—and loud, opinionated voices that call it quackery, drowning out those who have experienced positive results. A few months later, an upper-neck specialist shone some light on why it works sometimes: we have an intricate network of blood vessels where our skull meets our spine. If the top vertebra, the Atlas bone, for example, is twisted (you can sometimes feel a bump on one side or the other), it affects blood flow to the brain, which is why head trauma can cause symptoms resembling ADHD. Sometimes ADHD is genetic, sometimes it is situational/environmental, so obviously CST won’t resolve every case. But there are some stories about there about highly troubled children whose behavioral issues simply disappear once they get their cerebro-spinal fluid balanced.
Overall, CST is exceptionally gentle, feels good, can’t hurt you, and has many health benefits—it can even help with the common cold. It is safe to use on small children, and a good practitioner will teach you how. Head rubs at night calmed Enzo and helped him sleep. CST can be used instead of or in addition to chiropractic care. I think more people should know about it—especially those who feel they are living with a “monster” they wish were "right as rain."