Pins and Needles

Once a week I lie on the acupuncture table with some combination of needles sticking out from my body parts.

Today:

one needle in each ear
one in the crease between each big toe and second toe
one in the soft concave spot under the knob of each ankle.

Lucy the acupuncturist is very small and slight, like a needle. After getting me all set up, she turns on 2 gooseneck heat lamps and positions one over my torso, the other one over my legs, and sets the timer. Then she turns on bland Chinese music and slips out.

Three seconds later the florescent lights go out. I cook for thirty minutes or so until the timer dings.

This is supposed to be a time of meditation and relaxation, but often I feel profoundly anxious. As your body lets go of tension, it sometimes feels as if you are in an elevator that has just gone into a 5-floor freefall. I grip the sides of the table, then ungrip. Grip, ungrip. I study the black squiggles on the ceiling tiles.

Once Lucy put a needle in the underside of my wrist and advised me not to move my hand. That was hard. Sometimes I get needles in my belly, and after the needles plus heat lamp, my belly looks pink as a piglet.

Last week I didn't feel anxious at all, but I had spent time the few days before upset and yelling. (Lucy softly tells me that I have a lot of stress "inside.")

Score one for emoting.