DR. SEAN BARBABELLA, OFF THE RECORD: THE WHIPLASH FILES

(SATIRE)

Dear Americans,

I shouldn’t even be writing this, but America deserves to know: the President has suffered more whiplash in eight months than most car crash victims do in a lifetime. Forget policy reversals — I’m talking about the kind of violent snap that leaves your brain sloshing around like soup in a Styrofoam cup.

Every week it’s another U-turn. Tariffs up, tariffs down. Aid frozen, aid unfrozen. ICE raids canceled, ICE raids unleashed. Every one of these political whiplashes comes with a medical twin — the man jerks his head so hard spinning in circles that I’ve started keeping cervical collars in the Cabinet Room.

Repeated whiplash isn’t just sore necks. It’s micro-tears in muscle fibers, inflammation along the spine, neurological symptoms that mimic concussions. The textbook says chronic whiplash leads to dizziness, memory loss, and mood swings. Funny how that reads exactly like the daily White House schedule.

When I examine him, he swears the pain is “fake news.” Meanwhile, his C-spine creaks like a rusty screen door every time he cranes around to ask if Fox is still loyal. You don’t need an MRI to see the damage; you just need to watch him try to turn his head without wincing.

And the brain? Let’s just say repeated whiplash rattles it enough to cause diffuse axonal injury — the slow shredding of neural wiring. That’s what happens when you whip back and forth between “China is the enemy” and “China is our best friend for 600,000 students.” If you wonder why his thoughts loop like a broken record, blame the nerve fibers snapping like guitar strings.

The staff jokes that we should install headrests behind the Resolute Desk. I’m not laughing. I’ve seen whiplash patients who can’t recognize their own families after enough jolts. Here, we’re asking a man with a spine held together by stubbornness and spray tan to steer the entire country.

And when I tell him he needs rest? He insists on another rally, another reversal, another televised spasm of policy. He treats political chaos like physical therapy — as if whipping the nation back and forth is somehow strengthening us. That’s not rehab. That’s abuse.

The long-term prognosis? Chronic pain, reduced stability, cognitive decline. In plain English: the body breaks down, the brain fogs up, the mood darkens. If the United States feels like it’s living inside a migraine aura, it’s because the man at the wheel can’t stop jerking the wheel.

I can’t say this at a press briefing. I have to keep telling you he’s “fully fit.” But off the record? He’s a walking whiplash machine, and America is the passenger trapped in the back seat without a seatbelt.

So when you hear me smile and declare his health “excellent,” just remember: repeated whiplash doesn’t kill you quickly. It wears you down, inch by inch, until you’re dizzy, disoriented, and wondering which way is up. Sound familiar? That’s not a medical chart. That’s the State of the Union.

Satirically yours,
Captain Sean P. Barbabella, DO, MC, USN
Physician to the President (and unwilling chiropractor to the Republic)

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