Getting stuck

I have a coworker who is also a licensed acupuncturist, and works a few days a week at an integrative health clinic, thus splitting her time between stocking shelves with groceries and sticking people with needles.  She’s been trying to get me to come see her for a while – not because she knows anything about me, just because she tries to convince all of us to come see her – but our schedules never lined up.  That is, until yesterday.

I have to admit, too, that at first, I was a little apprehensive about letting this particular girl near me with any sharp objects.  On first meeting, she’s upbeat and silly; she makes a lot of off-color jokes, and has a lot of cats.  But a mutual friend, who’s gotten acupuncture from her before, convinced me that her demeanor really is much different in this other, more professional environment.  So I went.

The last time I got acupunched, the practitioner was hyper-holistic, and I, since I was there with friends, was almost irreverent.  We were taking pictures of each other with the needles in our legs and faces, and giggling nearly the whole time.  This time, since I was by myself and had no one to giggle with, I was actually grateful for this more talkative practitioner.

Still, she was very respectful and professional.  After reading my paperwork, in which my “chief complaint” was PTSD and fear of infertility following miscarriage, she put her hand on my shoulder and said, “I’m so sorry for your loss.  That sounds so traumatic.”  She asked me some questions – about my pregnancy, my periods, my past experiences with birth control.

“Were you trying to get pregnant?” she asked.

“No.  But…  We weren’t trying not to get pregnant, either.”

“I know some people who have done it that way,” she said, chuckling.

I went on.  “Now – for now – we’re trying not to get pregnant.  But I figure if I start coming to see you now, we can lay the groundwork, and then in another year or two, I’ll come in one day and start begging you to get me pregnant.”

Without missing a beat, she said, “Well, honey, I lack the proper equipment.  And I’m pretty sure Doug would have something to say about that.”  Then she added that of course she knew what I’d meant, and that she would definitely do her best to help.  “I might end up prescribing you some herbs, too,” she said.  Then, seeing the look on my face, “They’d be in pill form.  I’m a firm believer in pills.”

She got down to business then, putting needles in my feet and legs, hands, stomach, and head, chatting with me the whole time she worked.  After everything was in place, she said she’d let me rest for a while, left the room, and closed the curtain behind her.

I lay there, waiting for that scary/delightful swirly feeling I’ve gotten all (both) the other times I’ve tried acupuncture.  The feeling never really came.  I remained mostly conscious, alternately aware of the warmth of the heat lamp over my feet and the chill of the non-heated air on the backs of my bare thighs.  (The bolster under my knees was keeping my legs from touching the table.)

After about half an hour, my coworker came back and quietly announced that she had to “interrupt my nap.”  She took all the needles out, then warned me that, with her help, I might end up with cycles closer to 28 days than the 35-to-42-day cycles that come naturally to me.  I told her that was fine.  Then she said she’d like to see me once a week if I could swing it (financially?  schedule-wise?), and I said that was fine, too.

I feel like I’m jumping on the acupuncture bandwagon here – a little late, if we consider the timeline of my project; or a little early, if we consider the time left until I hope to conceive a child.  Either way – I feel better leaving no stone left unturned.

Then I went home, made myself a Hot Pocket for dinner, sent a few emails, and watched several episodes of Glee on Hulu.  The combination – along with the walk Doug and I took before he went to work – made for a lovely Thursday.

Over the (52) Hill

I could never do this alone, on a bike.
With you, in my car,
with you at the wheel,
it’s much nicer.

For almost five miles, there are no signs of life.
(Except the other cars, and those masochistic cyclists.)
Off the road, though, there is nothing:
no houses, no stores, no power lines.
Just hills, green or brown with the seasons,
and sky.

The ascent is long and strenuous –
even with a motor –
and there’s no way to see what’s over the top
until we’ve reached it.

But with my hand on your knee,
and the sun on my face,
this almost-endless stretch of uncertainty
has become my favorite part of the journey.

This entry was posted in friends, future, present, therapy, writing. Bookmark the permalink.

8 Responses to Getting stuck

  1. mommyodyssey says:

    Great poem. Again. I’m really happy you’re doing this!
    Re: acupuncture: Yes! It’s great that you’re starting now. My Harley Hottie wishes I’d started with him right after my second M/C but even after only 4 appts – there’s already been a significant change (my AF this month was different. Less painful, less heavy. it just felt better, if that makes any sense). So I’m a firm believer in this. Even though I usually avoid the froofy stuff. there’s actually some sound science behind this. So go for it! Yay!

  2. Sara says:

    Acupuncture is awesome! Was the clinic Adams Avenue Integrative Health?

    Acupuncture helps with some of my nerve issues. And helps with my headaches. And I really do find it very relaxing. I say keep it up for as long as you can!

  3. slcurwin says:

    Honestly, I haven’t been seeing my acupuncturist lately, but I’m very much a fan. I plan on going back soon, or as soon as my migraines come back at the latest. It really is pretty amazing what those little needles can do.

  4. Kira says:

    I love the way you describe embracing the uncertainty, what most of us find the scariest and hardest. I have moments of that, but nothing I can hold on to for the long term (yet).

    Also, I love how after having this great holistic experience you went home and ate a hot pocket. 😀

  5. Elphaba says:

    a) I love that she’s funny and made that joke about Doug.

    b) I love that you were so horrified about her saying you had to take herbs. That wouldn’t be because of a certain infertile’s constant bitching about ass herbs would it?

  6. Josey says:

    It took me nearly a year of TTC before I finally visited an acupuncturist, and I LOVE LOVE LOVE her. She has made such a difference in my cycles and my sanity. I’m glad you’re being proactive about this now! Sounds like she has the perfect personality for you right now. 🙂

  7. Shannon says:

    Acupuncture was one of the best things I did for myself while TTC – I’m so glad you’ve found someone you like!

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