Acupuncture: My first experience.

            Dr. Lin’s office is located on the second floor of a non-descript office complex.  I open the door of her office and am greeted by an empty room with two chairs against one wall and a desk against the other.  There are two closed doors in the back of the room which lead to two small exam/treatment rooms.  There is little indication that I am in the right place - no visible medical texts, no fliers advertising herbal products, nothing.  I sit down and after a brief period, Dr. Lin, a short Asian woman frocked in a white doctor’s coat, exits one of the two exam rooms.  It appears to be a one woman operation - no secretary, no assistant, just Dr. Lin.  Based on a the set-up and a single poster on the inside of the entrance door, I get the impression the office space is at times shared with a massotherapist who specializes in “hot rock” massages and similar therapies, but at the moment, Dr. Lin appears to be practicing alone.  A second later, an elderly woman in her mid-60’s comes out of the exam room.  By eavesdropping on their conversation, I surmise that she has been receiving treatment for sciatica, comes to see Dr. Lin on a regular basis, and is quite pleased with the results.  Dr. Lin practices a fee for service business which requires payment at the time of services rendered.  The woman pulls out her credit card and pays Dr. Lin on the spot.  The price is $85 for an initial visit and $75 for subsequent visits.

            After the woman leaves, Dr. Lin turns her attention to me.  She has me fill out a one page form describing my complaints and demographic information.  She briefly has me describe my headaches and my lower back pain.  That is about it - minimal history and no physical exam.  While reviewing my intake form, she notices that I am a doctor which seems to surprise her.

            She then leads me into one of the treatment rooms.  The room is sterile in appearance.  There is an exam table in the middle of the room, an acupuncture poster on the wall showing the 12 meridians, and a counter with needles, cotton balls, alcohol swabs, and other medical equipment.  I feel a bit disappointed.  In picking a doctor from China who is trained in traditional Chinese practices, I had expected a more oriental flare. I had thought the doctor would be dressed in a kimono and that there would be oriental music or the sound of a babbling brook present.  I expected the smell of incense to be wafting in the air and for the doctor to supplement her treatment with herbal remedies. Alas, none of this is present.  Rather, Dr. Lin seems to have adopted a more mainstream approach.  At least I feel rather confident that the needles will be clean!

            Dr Lin has me lie down on my right side with my shirt pulled up to expose my back while I face a large clock on the wall.  It is one of the big round clocks with a white face and black numbers which adorn the walls of classrooms.  Dr. Lin places the needles, about 15 in all.  She first places several needles over my temples, my ears, forehead and scalp.  I try to stay very still and as a result, I am not able to fully visualize the process.  It feels like she inserts the needle and then flicks it to push it in further.  It causes minimum discomfort, except for tightness around my scalp.  She then places several needles along my mid and lower back.  These are painless.  She next places a needle right in the middle of my left calf.  Ouch!  I feel this one.  It sends a shooting, nerve-like pain along my calf. It quickly subsides, but I feel a bit uneasy.  She next places several in the tops of my feet and ankle, but fortunately, she leaves the bottom of my feet alone!  She appears to be about done setting the needles.  She looks up and surveys her work.  “You are sweating,” she says.  I think to myself, “Of course I am sweating, you idiot.  I am a human pin cushion.  I can’t move for fear of stabbing pains!”  Instead, I answer, “It’s just my nature, I always sweat a lot.”  She asks if I am hot.  I say that I am fine.  She places a heat lamp next to my back.  Now, I am hot.

Dr. Lin places a small bell in front of me which I am to ring if I need assistance. She says she will be back in 30 minutes and that it is okay for me to fall asleep.  I say, “okay” and she steps out.  Of course, it is more likely that pigs will fly or that I will vote for Sarah Palin before I will fall asleep!  By nature, I am a wiggler.  My friends call me the “Princess and the pea” because I need perfect conditions to sleep.  I generally roll from side to side every 5 minutes for 30 minutes to an hour each night before finally nodding off.  No way am I sleeping now.  I can feel the tightness in my scalp from the many needles and a slight discomfort emanating from my calf.  Will I be able to lie still for 30 minutes?  I find myself staring at the clock. “Tick, tick, tick.” The minutes slowly pass as the clock provides the only sound in the room.  After an eternity and I mean an eternity, she finally returns.  She asks, “Do you still have a headache?”  I hesitate because I actually have developed a much greater headache than when I came in.  “Not sure?” she asks.  I nod.  “Let’s stimulate you a bit,” she says. She then proceeds to wiggle each needle in my scalp and in my back.  I feel only a minor twinge as they are jiggled.  She then steps out again.  Another eternity seems to pass. Now, I am not even sure when she will be back.

Finally, my curiosity gets the best of me.  I must see what I look like.  I cautiously raise my head up to try to look at my feet and legs.  I am stopped abruptly by a sharp pain in my back.  Quickly, I lie back down.  My muscles are now tensed and I am sweating profusely.  I wonder if I have undone all the possible benefits.  After 15 minutes, she returns.  She extracts all of the needles while dabbing at the puncture sites with alcohol.  She asks if my headaches usually start in my temples.  I concur.  She suggests that she bleed me a bit. (Have I returned to the dark ages? Wasn’t Abraham Lincoln’s death hastened by a good bleeding?) Of course, I say nothing.  She takes a small instrument and stabs me over each of my temples followed by some pinching and pressure.  It takes a few minutes and I am left with a red dot on each side.

            Then, she is finished.  She suggests I return within 1 week.  She says the treatments should provide longer and longer periods of relief with each treatment.  I fail to tell her that I now have a sizeable headache and my back feels unchanged.  Despite this, I go ahead and arrange a follow-up visit for the following week.

[Next week, a pitfall of western medicine.]