POKE POKE
4:03 p.m. on April 28, 2006


Guess what I did yesterday? No, I did not base-jump off the top of the Space Needle. No, I did not catch the Yanni show at the Key Arena. No, I did not arm wrestle Tony Snow.

I got Acupuncture.

I am not sure why exactly, but on Tuesday night I decided to check and see if there was any place conveniently located that offers Acupuncture. On Wednesday I called a place that is on my way home from work and by Thursday evening I had pins sticking out of me like a pink porcupine.

My goal is to swap my love for all things sugar for a joy of exercise. Every year I say I am going to do this, but instead every year my ass gets wider & wider. I need help. I need a boost. I need a giant foot to come down from the clouds and kick me square in my ever expanding caboose! I am not sure if Acupuncture is this foot, but I thought it worth a look-see.

I met with a very cute, very young white lady name Krystal. She asked me a million questions, including extreme details about my poop and menstrual cycle. She looked at my tongue from 4 different angles and took my pulse from 30 different areas on my body.

She said that I have a Spleen Qi (chi) Deficiency and that she could work on strengthening this area, which would help my will power, sugar craving and my dampness (why I feel like a giant tube sock filled with mud).

I lay down on a message table, but instead of rubbing my temples, she stuck a pin straight into the center of my forehead, right between my eyes. I was surprised. I had already sort of forgotten I was getting acupuncture, because it just is not something I ever saw myself doing. She then stuck pins in each hand between my thumb & my pointer finger. Then three needles in my belly in a line above my naval. She preceded with about a dozen more needles in my legs and feet. It hurt more than I was expecting, but just for the second during insertion, when she would tap the needle deeper into my flesh. I could not move my hands or feet or the muscles would complain.

Then came the hard part: I had to lie perfectly still on the message table, pierced from head to toe, for ONE HOUR! I am not very spiritual. I don’t meditate. I am not a napper. Laying there with nothing to do was difficult. It ached to fidget. I tried concentrating on my deep breathing while listening to Himalayan Chants, which would just cause me to yawn, which would cause my eyes to tear, which would cause me pain in my hand when I tried to wipe my face dry. Krystal came back into the room after 30 minutes, to “stimulate the needles”, look at my tongue some more and was gone again.

I would periodically lift my leg to examine the needles protruding from various body parts to try and pass the time. Finally she came back and began plucking the needles out of me. I was surprised by the blood, little red pearls from each poked hole. She left the room to let me situate. I wondered to myself if she ever missed a pin and left it sticking out of someone, and sure enough, there was still one pin remaining, sticking out of my calf. I gleefully plucked it out and stashed it in my bag as a souvenir.





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