I forgot if I mentioned we were in a car accident in January. If you are wondering whether I survived, the answer is yes. Imaginary applause! It was a minor thing. To stamp out the last bit of whiplash, my chiropractor recommended a few sessions with
a voodoo needle ninja an acupuncturist.
Needles aren’t my favorite thing, but at that point my choices were either tiny, hair-like pricks from a holistic healer or some doctor sticking a giant syringe in my neck. My chiropractor compared the latter to an epidural needle and while I’ve had two of those, they were at the behest of a woman suffering the mind numbing pain of childbirth. They ain’t exactly a picnic.
REEE! REEE! REEE! REEEE!
So I went with acupuncture. Everyone says it isn’t that bad, enjoyable even. You can’t even feel the needles! It’s just a warm, relaxing sensation as you drift off into a pain-free zen place where rainbows go on dates with ponies!
First of all, they are still NEEDLES. Tiny, yes, but needles. They prick your skin and it sucks. And it’s not just one needle, it’s like twenty needle pricks put in all over your body in places like your head and the inside of your knee caps. Then. Then! Then, they leave the needles there for you to think about. Yup, the acupuncturist leaves the room for you to be alone with your thoughts about your predicament.
You lay there, immobilized on a massage table with like twenty spikes sticking out of your flesh. You look like a porcupine and you consider moving, but it occurs to you that the needles might move too. Or sink in deeper! Or fall out and re-prick you somewhere else, like in some sacred voodoo spot that will cause you to go blind or something. Who knows! Who knows what is the power of these ancient tools?!
Not me. I wasn’t about to mess with some Chinese secrets. I already told you farms give me the creeps and those are far away. These needles were directly in my skin and had me positively captive. Well. Then I did kind of swirl out of consciousness a bit and you know something? That Yanni fellow playing on her iPod was downright relaxing.
Finally, the acupuncturist came back and yanked the needles out, but do you want to know what she did then? She placed eight little square bandaids on my skin with pricks. Pricked bandaids! Stuck right into my skin like tacks so that I could take this needle-pricking sensation home with me and enjoy it for 3-5 days until they washed off in the shower. Sorry, ancient Chinese wizards, but I plucked those suckers out 20 minutes after I got home.
I am hesitant to admit my back feels fine. I’m giving the credit to Yanni.