Needles.

I open my eyes to the sound of frantic and hurried Chinese being spoken all around me. I am laying on some sort of bed but I can’t move at all. I hear people coming in and out of the door just to my left but I can’t see who they are or what they are doing. Out of the corner of the eye I see another cot set up beside me. I can’t see who it is because there is a group of people in white coats examining him. I force myself to look down at my body. Needles. There are 16 needles sticking out my face, my neck, my hands, my arms, my legs, and my feet.

No, no, this wasn’t a bad dream or an Asian version of Saw 5—the scene I am describing is at the local Acupuncture clinic. Now this isn’t just any acupuncture clinic. My friend Park and I decided to go and try out the famous Xiamen University training hospital for TCM (Traditional Chinese Medicine). It took two days to actually figure out what we were doing and where to go. The second day, we finally made it into a practicing room. I was semi-creeped out as we walked in and saw people laying with pieces of metal protruding from their skin.

There was one main doctor who is reputably the best acupuncturist in Fujian province and speaks very good English. She had us sit down, one-by-one, in the middle of the room to describe our problem we wanted to have worked on. I was completely swarmed by about a dozen twenty-something girl interns wearing white-coats. As I explained my problems with migraines over the last two years, the group of onlookers oooed and aahhed. At one point I was told to stick out my tongue. Everyone immediately burst out in dialogue and note-taking…just a little disconcerting. They say that TCM is the art of observation (they have been doing it for like 5,000 years), so as they looked at my eyes and tongue the doctor started to ask very pointed questions and give very direct statements. Somehow, through everything she knew that my mother had back-problems and some form of headaches. She also predicted that I would have slightly high blood pressure—which I did. After the diagnosis, I was laid out on the table. The first question the doctor asked me was, “Are you sure you are not afraid of needles?” I assured her I wasn’t but wondered if she knew this question would only further frighten the patients. She then proceeded to stick the needles in, one-by-one. To tell you the truth, they did not hurt at all going in, I barely felt them. After the needles were in, the doctor twisted them into my body until I felt the weirdest sensations running through my whole body. I wouldn’t necessarily label them pain, but it was so weird and electric that it caused my whole body to jump up causing the crowd to ooohhh and aahhhh again. I was promptly informed that this was good if the force was strong, because it meant the diagnosis was right. Good, right? I had to sit with the needles in my body for 20 minutes and literally could not move. If I did, that was when it hurt—especially the ones in my temples! I am really hoping that this can prove to be my balm of Gilead for my annoying bout with migraines. I know some of you might be thinking acupuncture is just childish or even demonic—do some research and you can see the real medical benefits it has. Plus, I am pretty thoroughly disillusioned and unimpressed with the Western “cures” I have tried. So why not try something new? As of now I am signed for a 10-session treatment at the training hospital. 3 times a week for 3 weeks. I guess there’s one thing I will be seeing a lot more of. Needles.