Acupuncture. A blending of heaven and hell. And, here we are, close to Halloween.
The feeling on my shoulder, knees, neck, and ankle is not like thousands of twigs. None of them tingle or cause me to shimmy, cringe, and/or shake, though the occasional needle insertion causes me to cry “ouch!” I’m not going to be blown with the wind. I have deep roots – and, it is this heritage from my father – an extra sensitivity to pain. Oh well. My father gave me gifts that offset this artifact.
This collection of injury sites seem to be mine forever and are eager to receive mediation at $95.00 a pop. Actually, it’s more like a buck per needle…
You see, I counted as the therapist, a petite – and oh-so-sorry-to-cause-pain – young woman extracted each pinpoint of pain. Acupuncture has an array of plus and minus characteristics. The art is the other optima of ‘no pain, no gain’ that exercise is. Yes, I exercise – and I accept back massages.
The pinpoints of pain are the logical outcome of several rear-end auto collisions and then embellished by hours of sitting and striking keys with fingers compelled to write. I accept the good with the bad, the benefits of a life lived on earth. What’s the choice?
Do you acupuncture, dear Constant Reader? Do you like it? Abhor it? Endure it? Share in the comments, please and thanks.