Acupuncture, Take One

Project 365, Day 74/365

I was going to wait to write anything about my acupuncture experience from this past week, but every friend I mentioned it to asked the same question with such enthusiasm (“what was it like?!?”) that I thought, maybe I’ll journal about the experience now, and can circle back to it after a few weeks for an update. So here goes.

Acupuncture has always been a thing I’ve been intrigued by but never attempted. I’ve had lower back issues for years, likely due to my large chest and horrible posture, but it wasn’t until I found this new doctor of mine in hopes of getting some sort of diagnosis for my mysterious symptoms that he recommended I try it. As you know, I’ve been doing physical therapy twice a week since January, and it’s been really helpful, but my doctor believes part of what’s going on with my body is not just physical, but also mental. Not in an “it’s all in your head” kind of way, but in a stress/trauma response kind of way. My physical therapist also echoed this, without me telling him what my doctor had said.

Evidently, when your body goes through something, like a fall and then the subsequent recovery, it can respond in a way that you wouldn’t traditionally think it would. Mine, for instance, might be creating chronic tension as a defense mechanism. It “protected” me from my fall in the best way it could, and continues to do so, even though it’s not in any sort of danger. My physical therapist thinks this is causing immense muscle fatigue, hence all the heaviness in my arms and legs, and head. It doesn’t help that I was essentially immobile for 3-4 months in bed, bringing me further out of alignment.

Okay, back to acupuncture. As I mentioned, my doctor recommended I pair it with physical therapy to see if it was something that could help me. So I gave it a go. And I have to say…it was pretty wonderful. It took me a few weeks to find someone that my insurance would cover that also had good reviews.

I told my acupuncturist everything. “Get comfortable,” I said as a joke before starting.

My first appointment was about an hour and a half as it was part consultation, part treatment. The first hour or so was just us talking. I told my acupuncturist everything. “Get comfortable,” I said as a joke before starting. I walked her through the fall, through the intense sciatica, through not being able to walk so much as a single step for weeks, how my sweet Charles had to drag my body to and from the bathroom numerous times a day, all the medication my previous doctor prescribed me, all about the chiropractor who was helping me…and then about when the body heaviness set in and how I felt trapped in a body that didn’t work for me anymore. How all my tests and scans and bloodwork came back normal (thankfully). But how exasperating it’s been to feel what I feel and no one has been able to tell me something conclusive. Frankly, I’m rather shocked that I didn’t end up bawling to her as I talked to her through it all. She listened intently and said at the end: “It sounds to me like your body is suffering from trauma…”

After hearing that for the third time, from three different professionals, all who didn’t know what any other professional said, it finally sunk in. She also said that when your body doesn’t heal in the “normal” time, it can tend to forget to keep healing and move on. This is how acute problems can turn chronic. She also said something that really hit home for me, something that Charles was always trying to tell me when I was in the deepest, darkest corners of all of this: When you experience something like an illness or an unrelenting injury, we tend to focus so hard on it that it becomes part of our identity, which makes it even harder to heal. That it’s not just physical but also emotional (where have I heard that before?!? ha), and acupuncture helps to jumpstart the body’s healing response again, but also can unblock the emotional stress of things. She said I shouldn’t underestimate the emotional toll laying in a bed for months can bring, which can manifest itself physically.

I truly believe our minds are immensely powerful and our bodies do things that are inexplicable.

I know some people only believe in Western medicine, but I like to see things more holistically. My grandfather was a dentist by trade and very scientific, but he also wholeheartedly believed in functional medicine and holistic remedies, so I tend to be more open to the possibilities of non-traditional medicine. So while some of you may be reading this thinking it’s a whole bunch of hooey (sp??), I truly believe our minds are immensely powerful and our bodies do things that are inexplicable. So yes, stick those needles in me, and let’s see if it helps.

Finally, after what amounted to essentially a therapy session, she told me to strip down to just my underwear, lay on the table, and drape a towel on my bottom (to make me feel more comfortable). (Hot take: If you’re ever planning on going for acupuncture, make sure your underwear are not embarrassing.)

She came back in a few minutes and proceeded to talk me through where she planned on putting the needles, what it might feel like, and to tell her if I felt uncomfortable in any way. She had warned me during our initial chat that it might bring up some unexpected emotions, that people regularly cry or feel an overwhelming sense of emotional release during a session. Spoiler alert: I didn’t feel that, but I don’t necessarily believe that was wrong or anything. Let me keep going.

As I was laying face down (with my double mask situation on, so I kind of felt like I was suffocating), I didn’t actually see any of the needles going in, which is probably for the best. She started by placing needles in my head, neck and shoulders, as I have been dealing with very bad tension headaches during all this, then she continued down my back. I didn’t feel much of anything until she got to the bottom of my spine where I know I have some disc herniation according to the MRI I got this fall. One needle in particular hurt and I spoke up. She mentioned that is typical, particularly around the site of an injury, and asked if my herniation was around T5. It is exactly at T5 in my spine. The discomfort lasted about 10 or 15 seconds, and I gave her the clearance to keep going.

She continued placing the needles down my legs and onto my ankles. Again, it didn’t hurt in the least. Just felt like a gentle little poke but not sharp or painful. She finished by placing a few on my buttocks, and I felt the strangest sensation. She warned me it might happen as I may have an issue with my piriformis muscle from the fall. When the needles went in, I could feel those muscles grip the needles, contracting around them. I didn’t feel this anywhere else in my body, so it took me by surprise. Evidently, she was hoping that would happen, as it meant the muscles were responsive.

Once all the needles were in, she turned off the lights and music on, put what she called an inflammation lamp over my power back, and left me in the room for about 15 minutes. It was relaxing and if it weren’t for the fact that I kept breathing in my mask into my nostrils, I might have fallen asleep. I did, however, feel an internal pushing and pulling in my body. It felt internal and was likely imperceptible if you were looking at me, but almost like the poles in my body were fighting against each other. Push, pull, push, pull.

It kind of felt like I was a harp and she was just delicately running her fingers along my strings.

She came back in to “adjust” the needles, which she said really just meant pressing them back in as they tend to shift and our bodies try to expel them. It sounds scarier than it really was. It kind of felt like I was a harp and she was just delicately running her fingers along my strings. Then, back to lying still for another 10-15 minutes.

After the time elapsed, it was time to pull out the needles, which was an interesting sensation. Some of them felt like a little tug, but others felt like nothing. I was really aware of each little “clink!” sound the needles made in a small bowl I assumed she was holding. Clink….clink clink clink….clink. And then I was done.

“You may feel woozy when you get up. This is normal. Take your time.” Uh…yeah. I did. Just lifting my head made the room spin, so I went slowly. Upon fully standing, I felt kind of sideways and floaty, almost as if I had had a bit too much champagne on New Year’s Eve. It only lasted about 10ish minutes, thankfully. She came in after I had dressed, and we talked through the experience. She said acupuncture is not a magic bullet, and I shouldn’t expect to wake up the next day fully healed. That the treatments need to stack on each other, opening up your body little by little. But that I should drink plenty of water to help flush toxins. I’ve heard this before after massages, so I assumed it was the same type of thing.

It’s been two full days now since my treatment, and while I don’t feel too much of a marked difference, I can say I feel a little less tight and heavy in general. Maybe it’s in my head, but if I’ve learned anything through all this, that doesn’t make it any less real. I go back next week for two more sessions and will continue twice a week for a few weeks until I can scale back to once a week.

I’ll be sure to update you about all this in a few weeks after I have a few more sessions under my belt. I’m very hopeful that this paired with physical therapy and guidance from my internist will bring me back to my body, healed, stronger than before, both mentally and physically. And if it doesn’t, I’ll keep working to find something that will. I refuse to let this become part of my identity. I won’t go down without a fight. That I can tell you.

See you tomorrow, friends.