Pincushion Again

Somehow, I have no idea how, a whole week has passed since I last wrote. And the week before that was a little scarce too. I’ve just been tired. And busy.  And dealing with a sore neck that’s made me possibly more cranky and grumpy than I’d really realized.


Back in August my doctor noticed how stiff and knotted my back muscles were, and wrote me a ‘prescription’ for massage therapy – this scrip is necessary for my insurance coverage. So when we got back from Ottawa I started going to RMT sessions once a week. Yeah. My mid-back got better. But my neck … oh ow. It went from being just a bother to being downright painful and headache generating.  It’s a fine balance, either the RMT is too hard on the muscles and sends them into painful cramps, or he’s too gentle and accomplishes nothing. Last week I stayed home from work one day from the headache, and just slept. But it feels like it’s getting worse, week after week, and not better.


So today I made an appointment to see my old acupuncturist. She helped my neck a few years ago … er… more than a few. And then again five-ish years ago. But here’s the thing. She specializes in fertility issues. Treating sore necks etc is a ‘filler’ thing for her.


Call me superstitious, but I can’t help but notice that I got pregnant despite being on birth control pills, and it just happened to coincide with a week or so of treatment.


I’ve jokingly thanked her for that gift.


But this time I was careful, along with that easy and friendly laughter, to specify that right now would not be a good time for her to work that sort of medicine again.  I assured her that should Leif and I decide to go down that path, I’d surely come back with her assistance in mind.


So we chatted, while I lay face-down, and she turned me into a pincushion.  About how lucky I am to have a son, about the women who come to her office seeking assistance, and about the Chinese phrases and words I’ve learned since I saw her last. That time, I knew ‘baby’ stuff, how to say nose, eyes, hands, you, me. One of Cameron’s nannies was from China, and he knew how to point to his nose when asked to in Mandarin loooong before he recognized the request in English.


I don’t dare move once the needles are in, there are so many that I lose track of where they are, exactly. And this I know was a ‘gentle’ treatment since it’s been so long since I was there last.  She aimed a heat lamp on me, and left me to relax.


Would you believe that I had the best sleep I’ve had in months, lying there on her table, a handful of needles in my back, neck, arms, and scalp?



And now, hours later, when had it been a massage session alone (she does massage as well as needles) my neck would’ve been cramping up, I still feel pretty good.


Apparently, good enough to get back to writing. Pretty cool.


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