My husband has been complaining (well, let’s be honest—whining) that one leg feels longer than the other. He keeps saying, “My left leg is too long!” So, for the past three days, he’s taken matters into his own hands—literally—and has been putting the heel of his boot on the belt sander trying to “even his legs out.” I told him maybe what he actually needs is an adjustment, not a power tool. Can one leg all of a sudden become longer? He’s a grown man, after all! Please advise before he runs out of heels—or common sense. 😂 Sincerely, A concerned (and slightly amused) wife Dear Amused, 😂 Oh boy… tell your husband to step away from the belt sander! The good news is, it’s actually very common to feel like one leg is longer than the other — but in most cases, it isn’t because a leg suddenly grew overnight. More often, it’s caused by a pelvic misalignment or tight muscles that make one side of the body sit higher than the other. A simple chiropractic adjustment can usually even things out quickly (and safely — no power tools required!). So before he starts customizing any more boots, have him come in for a quick check-up. We’ll make sure he’s standing level and walking straight again. 😉 We fix leg-length problems the safe way — no sandpaper needed!

I was getting ready for fall by washing and waxing my truck when I noticed a puddle of oil under the engine. After 4 hours of crawling around with a flashlight, I finally gave up—only to find out my wife staged the whole thing as a prank. Now I can’t get out of bed, and she insists I’m just being dramatic. Can you help me? Parked on cardboard in Kaiser Dear Cardboard Parker, Well… it sounds like your wife has a future in special effects! Unfortunately, your spine didn’t get the memo that the “oil leak” was a prank. Spending four hours twisted under a truck with a flashlight is the perfect recipe for sore muscles, stiff joints, and a back that refuses to cooperate the next morning. You’re not being dramatic — your body is simply letting you know it’s had enough of the DIY mechanic life. The good news is, this isn’t permanent damage. With a proper adjustment, we can get you standing tall again, loosen up those tight muscles, and keep you from crawling around the house like you’re still under that truck. And as for the prank… I can’t help you there. 😉 But I can help your back recover. Let’s get you in before your wife finds her next “project.” Always here for you! Dr. Aaron P.S. Call Family Chiropractic today — your back will thank you (and maybe your driveway, too).

Summer is ending faster than I expected and my to-do list is nowhere near complete. In my rush to clean up around the house, I grabbed a piece of tin that blew in from one of our famous windstorms. What I almost grabbed along with it? A SNAKE. Pretty sure my heart stopped—my body took off running before my feet got the memo, and the next thing I know, I’m rolling on the ground like a fire drill gone wrong. Stop, drop, and roll—but for snakes. My knee is a mess, I can hardly walk, and my husband saw the entire thing… he’s still laughing. Please advise—can you help? Signed, Stop, Drop & Snake-Roll Survivor Dear Stop, Drop & Snake-Roll Survivor, First off—your instincts were spot on. When confronted with a snake, stop-drop-and-roll may not be in the official manual, but it sure got you out of there fast! Now, about that knee and those aches: yes, we can absolutely help. For the knee pain, our Red Light Therapy is perfect—it helps speed healing, reduce inflammation, and get you moving again. And for the full-body soreness (plus the trauma of your husband laughing at you), our Infrared Sauna will melt away those aches, relax your muscles, and help you recover. 📞 Call the office today—we’ll get you back on your feet, with less pain and fewer snake-inspired acrobatics. Always here for you, Dr. Aaron P.S. asking what kind of snake is this post on Lake Area Happenings will bring more than laughter..

Is it actually possible to displace a rib while cooking ribs? My husband swears he “threw a rib out” lifting a tray of ribs into the smoker. I say he just had one too many adult beverages while “supervising” the smoke. Now he’s walking around holding his side like he’s auditioning for a barbecue drama. So, Doc—do ribs really go “out,” or is this just a case of too much sauce and not enough sense? Signed, Saucy but Skeptical Dear Saucy but Skeptical, Yes, ribs can technically “go out”—but usually not while loading the smoker. More likely, your husband strained a muscle, or maybe he’s suffering from a severe case of barbecue bravado. 🍺🔥 If he truly displaced a rib, he’d be in enough pain to drop the ribs, and let’s be honest—no one who loves smoked meat is letting that happen. So, bring him in. We’ll check his spine, his ribs, and maybe even his story. Until then, keep the adult beverages to a minimum and the ribs on the smoker, not in the excuse pile. Stay saucy, Dr. Aaron

Well, this is about as embarrassing as it gets. I was shaving my legs in preparation for the big boating events. Things were going fine until I decided to get fancy and make sure I didn’t miss any stray hairs. This required me to twist, bend, and practically stand on my head in the shower. Somewhere between "contortionist yoga pose" and "Cirque du Soapy," I realized I was… stuck. I couldn’t straighten up, couldn’t finish the job, and was pretty sure my hamstring had signed a resignation letter. The worst part? My phone was just out of reach, so I had to wait for my husband to check on me. He’s still laughing. Can you please put me back together before the weekend? Also, do you happen to offer leg shaving safety classes? Asking for… me. — Bent, Busted & Barely Boat-Ready in Osage Beach "Dear Bent, Busted & Barely Boat-Ready, First of all, I’m relieved you didn’t take a razor to the rescue call. Second, you’re not the first patient to come in with a ‘boating event injury’ before even getting near the boat. We’ll get you straightened out and walking upright again—bonus, I’ll throw in a posture refresher so you can spot those stray hairs without auditioning for a circus act. Call the office today… and maybe let the boating crowd admire your smile this weekend, not your hamstring flexibility." Always here for you, Dr. Aaron

TikTok told me wearing different weight earrings could fix my neck and headaches. I went with two pounds on one side. Ripped my earlobe, neck still hurts, and now I’m walking crooked. Help before people start using me as a human level. Leaning Tower in lake Ozark Dear “Leaning Tower of Piercing,” TikTok strikes again! Two pounds is less “therapy” and more “construction equipment.” Come in and we’ll straighten you out — and maybe recommend earrings that weigh less than a Thanksgiving turkey.

I find myself in a bit of a bind—literally. While heroically lifting a case of adult beverages (purely for hydration purposes, of course), I managed to tweak my back. The real injury, however, would come from telling my wife the truth. I’d never hear the end of it. So I’m sticking with the story that my back hurts from carrying around all this handsomeness. Please don’t blow my cover. Can you help a guy out? Preferably before I have to lift anything else… like my pride. Sincerely, Injured but Dignified Dear Injured but Dignified, Ah yes, the classic “handsomeness strain”—a condition we see quite often, especially in cases involving weekend warrior lifting and covert beverage logistics. Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. HIPAA protects bad decisions too. Let’s get you in, adjusted, and back to lifting things that matter (like your ego). We’ll even help you walk upright again so your story is more believable. Call the office—we’ve got an ice pack and a straight face waiting for you. Stay handsome, Dr. Aaron

My beautiful mom came to visit, and like the devoted son I am, I helped her bring her things into the house. In a noble (and very manly) gesture, I grabbed her purse—because it’s Mom, of course. What I didn’t anticipate was the sheer, spine-compressing weight of that deceptively dainty handbag. Somewhere between the front door and the kitchen, I felt something in my back go pop, and not in a festive way. Can you help me? Thank you in advance, Son of Steel, Back of Glass Dear “Son of Steel, Back of Glass,” Ah yes, the classic Mom Purse Injury. A tale as old as time — deceptively small on the outside, yet containing the weight of a neutron star inside. Between the 8 lbs of quarters, mystery hard candies, 3 bottles of lotion, a flashlight, and what may or may not be a brick from 1982… you didn’t stand a chance. Absolutely, I can help. Whether it’s a heroic miscalculation or a purse-related trauma, we take all kinds of back injuries seriously. Give the office a call — we’ll get you moving again, and maybe even recommend a spotter next time you handle that handbag. PS: Carrying your mom’s purse is manly. Getting taken down by it? Even more legendary. — Dr. Aaron

I’ve really gotten myself into a pickle. After five months of relentless begging, negotiating, and a few promises I probably can’t keep, my wife finally gave in and let me buy a new-to-me boat—not just any boat, but a fast boat. We took it out for the first time, and wow, it was everything I hoped for. We cruised the lake, stopped at a restaurant, and for the first time, I felt like I truly belonged among the sleek, powerful boats lined up at the dock. After our meal, I was feeling pretty proud of myself—great boat, great food, and my wife even seemed to be having fun. Wanting to keep that momentum going (and maybe earn a few more brownie points), I idled through the no wake zone, eyeing that magical moment just beyond—the point where it’s finally “clear to race.” In my head, I was a Shootout legend. I eased the throttle forward, and the boat responded with a roar. It was glorious. As I soaked in the moment, wind in my hair, engine purring like a lion, I noticed the other boaters were waving at me. At first, I thought they were impressed—maybe even a little jealous. I imagined them saying, “There goes a man who knows how to live.” Then I turned to my beautiful bride to share in my triumph… and she wasn’t there. For a moment, time froze. I had a vivid memory of her stepping on the boat. I even remember her untying the rear line. So where was she now? That’s when it hit me. The boaters weren’t waving in admiration—they were trying to alert me that my wife was still back at the end of the idle zone. Yep. In the water. Right where I left her. I went fast, and she… well, she stayed exactly where I’d last seen her—floating. So now I’m doing some damage control. She’s sore, understandably salty, and not exactly in a “fast boat mood.” I figured maybe a chiropractic adjustment could help loosen things up—physically and emotionally. You work miracles, Dr. Aaron… think you can help me with this one? P.S. I’m now looking into getting her a nice life vest, some roses, and possibly a jet ski… so she can catch up next time. Dear “Fast but Forgetful,” What a ride—and I don’t mean the boat. You successfully turned your wife into a floating buoy at the No Wake Zone line, and I imagine your dreams of future fast-boat adventures hit idle real quick after that splashdown. Let this be a lesson: horsepower doesn’t mean anything if you forget the most important passenger on board. That said, miracles do happen—and nothing says “I’m sorry” like an apology and a chiropractic adjustment. If she’s sore from her surprise swim or just needs a little TLC (tender loving crack), we’re here for her. In fact, bring her in for an adjustment on you—and maybe I’ll throw in one for you too, for whiplash from turning your head so fast when you realized she was gone. Call the office. Let’s help realign her spine and your marriage. Sincerely, Dr. Aaron P.S. You’re lucky she didn’t have the keys to your boat and your truck.

5th of July Float Trip from Hell. The canoe got stuck on a rock, we were run over by a party raft full of people who definitely didn’t notice, tossed into swift water, bounced off sharp rocks, and came out the other side looking like we’d lost a fight with a cheese grater. We’re stiff, sore, bruised, cut, and fried to a crisp. Please help. Also, we think one of us may have lost a flip-flop and a little dignity. — Sincerely, Sunburnt, Soaked, and Slightly Traumatized Dear Sunburnt, Soaked, and Slightly Traumatized That’s not a float trip… that’s a full body exfoliation with bonus trauma. Call the office. We’ve got ice, alignments, and aloe. We’ll help you feel human again—flip-flop not included. 🩴 Always here for you, Dr. Aaron

I’m upset, stiff, and a little salty—literally and emotionally. My wife is almost perfect… almost. We were out enjoying a flawless day in our new-to-us vintage boat. The sun was shining, the lake was sparkling, and life was good. When it was time to head home, the plan was simple: ease up to the dock, drop off my wife so she could get the truck and trailer, and I’d handle the rest. But nooooooo, she insisted I back in the trailer because “too many people were watching.” She didn’t want to be embarrassed. So, I reluctantly handed over the controls like a good husband and got ready to jump onto the dock. I calmly briefed her: shift to neutral, then reverse if needed to fight the wind. I heard a soft, concerned “uuuuuuhhhhh…” and then—BAM—we lurched forward like a torpedo aimed at my dignity. I’m not sure if she zigged, zagged, or briefly reenacted a Fast & Furious scene, but I now understand whiplash on a spiritual level. I can’t turn my head. The internet says it’s possibly a disease from the Congo. I think it’s more likely boat-related betrayal. Please help. I need relief… and maybe a prescription ordering my wife to give me neck rubs for life. Sincerely, Boated and Busted Absolutely! Dear Boated and Busted, First things first: Ice, ice baby! 🧊🧊 What you’re describing sounds like a textbook case of “dockside whiplash meets marital boat miscommunication syndrome.” Don’t worry—you are not the first, and you won’t be the last. But that doesn’t mean you should suffer! Call the office now—we’ll get you taken care of. You need proper treatment, not an internet diagnosis involving jungle diseases. And as for that lifetime neck rub prescription? Let’s just say… I can strongly recommend it as part of your home care plan. 😏 Looking forward to getting your neck (and pride) realigned, Dr. Aaron 📞 Call today. We’ve got you covered—on land and sea.

My pets are ruining my life!! My dog watched how I get ice cubes from the front of the refrigerator…. And learned he can get as many icy treats as he wants. My husband hates my cat so I cannot tell him what really happened. My cat knocked the salad oil off the counter he is not allowed to be on, it spilled in the same location as a missed Ice cube from my dog. While retrieving cream for my coffee, my trusty 12 year old slippers did just that, slipped! My hip is all kinds of out of whack, I am struggling to walk can you help and forget about the cat part? Osage Beach Cat Lover Dear “Osage Beach Cat Lover (but let’s keep that between us),” I see what’s going on here: a full-blown animal conspiracy. One furball mastering the fridge like he’s training for Top Chef: Canine Edition, and the other staging covert oil slicks like he’s auditioning for Home Alone: Feline Trap Edition. While I can’t promise to keep your cat’s criminal record sealed forever, I can help with your hip. Slippers + oil + rogue ice cubes = a perfect storm, and it sounds like your body took the brunt of it. Come see me. I’ll get you realigned, walking better, and perhaps we can brainstorm ways to cat-proof your kitchen (or at least improve the alibi). Call the office and we’ll schedule you in—just don’t bring the cat unless he’s planning to apologize. Yours in animal-related mystery injuries, Dr. Aaron P.S. We don’t judge pet drama. We treat it.