If you’ve known me for any reasonable amount of time, you’re aware that embarrassing things often happen to me.

Some of them I’ve blogged about, like the Cub Cakes incident, others I haven’t, like accidentally farting in my chiropractor’s face. (Don’t judge, I’m sure I’m not the only one.)

Even though I’ve moved to Norway, I certainly don’t expect my luck to change, so thank God I don’t take myself too seriously. My latest faux pas has to do with my chiropractor, but nothing with bodily functions.

I have scoliosis, which is a curvature of the spine and if I don’t go to the chiropractor regularly, I’m in chronic pain. With kids and my life’s schedule, regular back appointments are hard to maintain. However in Norway, I’ve been going two times a week.

For my first appointment, I left my boys with Farmor and walked the five minutes to the chiropractor’s office. Once inside the building, I saw it was like many of the other buildings here. Through my American eyes, several buildings in Norway look like you are backstage at an empty concert arena. I know that sounds weird, but it’s the best way I can explain it.

When we go inside government offices or banks or other places of business, all the doors are the kind I used to see in stairwells or industrial warehouses. When I open a door, I’m never sure whether the other side is a hallway, bank lobby or supply closet.

Anyway, looking for my chiropractor, I began to pull open the heavy white doors inside this building. The first door was locked. I went down a hallway, pulled open another white door and it led to a pediatric office. Several other doors were locked. Finally, I opened one that said “Akupuntur” and there was a kinda lobby. It was more like a corridor with chairs and huge stacks of magazines.  

There were three doors in this so-called lobby. The first two were locked, and like Goldilocks I hoped the third one was “just right.” I turned the door’s handle, it was unlocked. Yay! I pulled it wide open and inside was a huge exam room with a half-naked person on the table.

Sh*t.

I wanted to die.

I quickly realized the chiropractor had not yet seen me, so I scrambled to quietly shut the door, praying no one noticed me.

Turning on my heels, I took a seat in one of the nearby chairs and texted Farmor. I told her what happened, and she responded that “We Norwegians cannot be bothered with receptionists… Now you know the routine.”

Thanks, Mum.

About five minutes later, the previously half-naked woman walked out the door, I avoided her gaze. The chiropractor welcomed me in and I pretended it was my first time in the exam room.

Now when I have an appointment, I sit in the lobby and wait for her to come out and get me.