Sitting in the waiting room can be almost as painful as the reason you’re there.

 

 

I’d seen the same worried and desperate expressions at all the other places I’d been. The halls of hope that became the houses of horror and I wondered if these helpless and hopeless faces mirrored that of my own.
After more than five long years of agony, which represented a quarter of my lifetime at that stage, I slowly but undeniably had developed an attitude that immunized myself against hope, optimism was pushed way back in my consciousness and pessimism had taken up permanent residence.

On three different continents I literally spent a fortune, yeah THEY always got paid, but I’d come away from the ‘series’ of treatments, (funny how it was always a ‘series’ of treatments), broke and broken. Most of the time I kept the whole deal to myself; after all, strong red-blooded males only ever got bad backs from doing one thing and even that hurt.

So I’d just sneak off for ‘treatment’, more often than not three times a week, so that ONE DAY I’d be NORMAL and I could put this nightmare behind me.

After years of disappointments and who knows how many thousands of dollars later (no wonder all my friends ALWAYS had more money than me) I had just about tried everything… there’d been GP’s, orthopaedic specialists, surgeons, chiropractors, osteopaths, physical therapists, naturopaths, acupuncturists, iridologists, bio-chemists, medication., masseurs, gym memberships, yoga, even a faith healer…have I forgotten anyone?…probably, yes, if there was even a remote possibility of success I’d be there, pay my money, take my chances!

They ALL got a slice of my hard-earned bucks, yet in the end, I’d hobble away and take my problem with me.

NO-ONE HELPED ME AND NO-ONE GAVE A REFUND.

In the early 80’s, I was told, by a leading orthopaedic surgeon in a top hospital, “You have an incurable, inoperable disease in your spine, there is nothing that can be done…give up ALL sport and get used to it. you’ll have it for the rest of your life. By the time you are middle-aged, you will most likely be in a wheelchair. Please pay on the way out thanks”.

What he actually was saying was, “just imagine you are a very old man. LIVE LIKE ONE.”

BUT I’M ONLY TWENTY SIX!! I HAVEN’T STARTED YET AND YOU’RE TELLING ME IT’S OVER!!……

THE LONGEST TUNNEL ON THE LONGEST NIGHT COULDN’T HAVE BEEN DARKER THAN THAT DAY
How could I be a ‘real’ man when I couldn’t even tie up my own shoe laces half the time without excruciating pain, let alone lift anything, even the thought of lifting was a joke.

During the interim years since I developed Back For Life, by a process of trial and error, I have resumed sport, built and landscaped four houses, kept a smile on my beautiful wife’s face, fathered two children and along the way helped many thousands of desperate, helpless people, who have suffered the agony of back pain, to lead normal, productive and fulfilling lives.

Your Suffering

THE MESSAGE IS SIMPLE , THE VICTORY SO SWEET.

My question to you is also a simple one.

Do you want to stay the way you are?

Or, have you reached a point in your life when you have decided, “ENOUGH IS ENOUGH! IT’S TIME TO TAKE THE CONTROL OF MY OWN LIFE OUT OF THE HANDS OF THOSE I’VE PAID A FORTUNE TO AND PUT IT BACK WHERE IT SHOULD HAVE ALWAYS BEEN; IN MY OWN!”

GET THE BOOK!