Prickly Pins

I have a standing acupuncture appointment every single Monday at 4:00 p.m.

Acupuncture it turns out is very effective at keeping me alive and well and actually with two feet firmly planted on this planet. It isn't that I mind floating among the clouds like a small pink balloon every once in a while, but the professor is not here to hold on to the string I tie tightly around my ankle during such occasions and also it is not the best thing for my brain, truthfully, to take those adventures.

I've written before about some of the troubles of my head and the challenges it has so I won't bore you with all that nitty-gritty, but I will share for those who may be new that I have seizures that are non-responsive to the usual therapeutic doses of medication, I suffer from migraines, I'm bi-polar, and I currently have a blood-clot that is in the deep recesses of my brain and is inoperable. Yes, I've been dropped on my head a lot. I am asked that often.

I'm grateful, honestly, for every single loving person who has found their way into my life, crossed paths with me, and has helped me to sort out a way to not only feel better, but to thrive. I had my first traumatic head injury when I was just six weeks old so, yes, this really has just been my life.

I am this way simply because this is the way I am. There's no other me to be.

At acupuncture today, I arrived and my acupuncturist said, "So, Nakedjen, what's the word?"

And I said, "Pending."

And he said, "Pending?"

And I said, "We've had thunderstorms since yesterday. There are more on the horizon. Your work has kept a migraine at bay, but...I can feel it coming. Right over my right eye."

He was holding my wrist at the time, checking my pulse and he said, "Pending was quite an accurate description. No more chatting. I've got the answer."

With that, he quickly stuck a needle right into the edge of my left foot, just below my pinky toe, and I yelped. Electric impulses zinged up my body and I felt like I was going to throw up. He looked at me, smiled, and asked, "How's your head?"

I could feel the pain start to break apart. "It's starting to break apart, but I'm pretty certain I'm going to puke on my own toenails."

"Oh, I have no doubt about that. You're the most sensitive patient I have. Now, hold on..." and with that he put in another needle just below my big toe. Again, I yelped. More nausea, less pain. This continued as he placed more needles up my leg following the liver and gallbladder meridian and explaining that he was releasing the stress and blocks that were trying to cause the migraine.

He put matching needles in the right leg and foot and then two in each of my hands. Those were especially painful and he explained that I got no awards for being a hero about it, but I reminded him that it always "calmed down" and I knew those were emotional centers (the hands) and I wanted to let that STUFF go.

He left me to think about things. Or not. I try not to really think. I try to imagine bright golden light flowing out of the top of my head. Or I try to think of myself as love energy flowing to those I know need it. You, for example. I always know you need it, so I send you some of my own heart as I lay there getting tuned up.

I was there for two hours.

My acpuncturist is truly wonderful that way. He knows I can't just get some needles and go. He knows I have to be left alone to do my thing. So he just leaves me alone until I decide that, like the scarecrow, I've been stiched carefully back together again and am ready to go fight the good fight for love.

"How's the head?," he asked as he gently removed the needles, each one giving a little zing as it said goodbye.

"It's all good. Like magic! I'll be back though if it doesn't behave."

"Of course you will. You love it here."

He's absolutely right. I do love it here.

Last built: Fri, Jul 10, 2015 at 3:41 PM

By NakedJen, Monday, September 22, 2014 at 8:11 PM. You should never argue with a crazy man.