Acupuncture

So, for those of you who know and love me well, you know how much I loathe needles, hospitals, bloodletting and the like.

Seems strange then, that I would voluntarily go to an acupuncturist. Well... actually, voluntarily is not entirely true. Once again, at the end of a conversation with Mrs Myeong, I was left wondering how I'd possibly agreed to anything.... she's got a real knack. So, somehow, I went from complaining about a stiff shoulder to being brought face to face with needles and bloodletting in a hospital setting. I mean, yeah, I was curious too. And when someone says, "Okay, today you can leave school early and go to the traditional clinic.", well, you just jump at the chance, don't you?

Hmmm....

Actually, I loved it. I knew from other people's experiences at the traditional medicine clinics in Korea that it would be a) bizarre and b) painful. It started with a consultation with the doctor, translated by Mrs Myeong. I was kind of hoping for an old man with a long beard, like an old kung fu master... maybe smoking a long pipe or something and wearing robes. Nope... this guy was young and wearing a white coat. He started by holding my hands and pressing his thumbs into my wrists. Then, I was brought to a room full of curtained-off beds and they gave me a typical hospital shirt to change into. Well, typical except that it had a bunch of zippers on it. This is so the doctor can unzip certain parts, but keep your dignity intact. Might be a nice idea for Canadian hospitals.

Right, so he had this thin plastic tube that he put against my right wrist and the next thing I knew... there was a thin needle sticking out of it! And he tapped it further in, and then twisted it a bit.

And it felt... fine.

And it felt fine as he put needles in my left wrist, my left palm, my right leg and poked randomly at my left shoulder (the stiff one). Then, I was left to think about the fact that I had random needles sticking out of me for about 10 minutes.

I thought about my friends saying how much it hurt and I was like, "Whatever! This is great!". Silly me.

A nurse came by and removed all the needles, then told me to roll over. She unzipped the back of the shirt and thus endeth the enjoyment of the session and thus beganeth the bloodletting.

She used suction cups (???) to grab various bits of my back (I'm currently covered in welts) and on one of them she used a sort of quick blade thing (like what a diabetic might use to test blood sugar by cutting their fingertip) to slice open a few of the welty bits, and then stuck the cup things back on. Then, I was left to think about the fact that I was subjecting myself to medieval torture for about 10 minutes.

The nurse came back and took off all the suction cups - leaving me awash with a sort of endorphinal relief. I sat up, thinking that it was over... Oh, but no. I'd apparently forgotten about the adhesive bits of burning embers that were to be stuck on me next. She came back and forth a few times to add more adhesive embers to my tortured skin, sometimes leaving me to think about the fact that I was kind of feeling better, but maybe it was because I couldn't think about my stiff shoulder when my back was on fire and I had ashes in my hair.

And then.... She put 4 padded cuppy things that were attached to a machine on my back. It was like a massage machine that poked, pummeled and vibrated the burns, welts and slashes on my back. Then, I was left to think about the fact that my burns, welts and slashes were being poked, pummeled and vibrated.

It must be over now, right? Nope. I was ushered upstairs where there was all manner of health machines/torture devices and sat down on a massage chair. Oh! Sweet massage chair! You are the best part of any Japanese airport! Then, I was left to think about how I only had about $10 in my wallet and I'd been there for over an hour and something like this would cost a lot in Canada. In the end, though, the total cost was about $7 CDN. Yeah...

Mrs Myeong picked me up with Ms Cheong and I fed them a "traditional Canadian meal" of salad, white wine and veggie omelettes, starting with some Brie and crackers. I'm trying to convince them that North Americans don't just eat junk food. Not having an oven and not being able to even cook chicken for them (I'm trying to convince them that I am completely veg and not a chicken-tarian, in order to avoid having to eat raw skate or live octopus for lunch at some point) means that my options are somewhat limited.