Acupuncture? Cool!!

I’ve been having pretty bad back pain the last week and a half, or thereabouts. It was bad enough that I’ve had a constant headache along with nausea, dizziness, and lightheadedness. Oh joy, right? Yep, that’s what I figure.

And unlike other times I’ve had back pain, it wasn’t just my neck, or just my lower back - it was frickin’ everywhere, man!

I got the name of a acupuncturist/homeopath/chiropractor from Marlene, who got it from some people she works with. Seems this guy is highly recommended by a couple of people at her work, both expats, so it’s good enough for me to try him out.

Fahim and I went today. Fahim came with me basically because I wanted to. What can I say? I’ve had a couple of nasty encounters with doctors in Canada, and here, unlike Canada, I can’t exactly

  1. pick and choose
  2. find a competent female doctor easily
  3. scream real loud if someone does something hinky

I mean, scream and yell, yeah, I could, and I would, but would it do any good? Considering how much good it didn’t do in Canada? Not so much here. So better off taking Fahim with me to check the guy out. Plus, until I know what level of English is spoken, I’m better off having my built-in translator along. Add to that the possibility that they may charge us less because Fahim’s a local.

See, I found some info on the zoo south of Colombo a week or so ago, and the price for locals versus foreigners was pretty amazing. It was something like 45 Rupees for a local, and 200 or so for a foreign visitor. Well, I’m neither a local nor a visitor, so what would they charge me? Fahim says that, if it came to that, he’d buy the tickets without me beside him, and then we’d go in. Assuming we ever go there.

How do we know that they’re going to charge me the same price as they would charge an obvious Lankan? We don’t.

Yesterday, after we got the number, Fahim tried calling, and because the doc wasn’t in, he had to speak to the urse/receptionist instead, and they would not give price info over the phone - have to talk to the doc. Well, heck, we just want to know ballpark, ya know?

Oh, and to make an appointment. But they don’t make appointments. It’s in the order you arrive.

So we decided to go this morning.

Fahim calls Mervyn, our trishaw driver, and Mervyn picks me up at about 10 to 11 this morning, then we pick up Fahim from work on the way, then we head to Nugegoda. We cut through Kotte to get there. It’s not that far, but to me, it seems like forever. Probably all that pain I’m in.

We get there, and it’s a house that’s been converted into a doctor’s office. There are all sorts of women in antiquated nurses uniforms roaming around. After about a half hour (Could it have been quicker than that? Oh, anything’s possible. Pain makes everything seem like forever.) we’re taken into the doc’s office, and I tell him about the pain I’m under.

Granted, the pain started improving a couple of days ago, but not to the point of actually being comfortable or even functional. Oh no. Are you kidding me?

Chopping vegetables has been killing me. Hanging up one load of laundry did me in for hours.

I’ve basically been reading and watching DVDs - couldn’t do any writing. Oh, did I mention that nasty headache? Yeah, writing’s out when I have a nasty like that happening.

Doc has me lie down on my back, and he asks a few questions and palpates my neck - I cringe. He then asks me to lie down on my stomach, and he checks out my spine, shoulders, lower back - the whole nine yards - and I nearly cry when he presses certain points in with a skewer.

Yeah yeah yeah, I’m kidding. He didn’t actually use a skewer - it just felt like that. It was enough to take my breath away - and not in a good way.

I tell him about my history of falls, starting when I was what, one? and fell out of the car and landed on my head, continuing to when I was five or six and fell off the catwalk a half dozen times over a year or so time period to the ground 15 or something feet down. Then there were all those car accidents from those crazy Asian drivers in Vancouver in that masochistic period that I lived there.

Can you say W. H. I. P. L. A. S. H. ?

That’s very good, boys and girls.

He suggested I get an MRI to see exactly what’s going on with my spine - Fahim later makes a phone call to find out prices, and it’s out of our budget at the moment, so it’s on hold.

But even without the MRI, while he wouldn’t recommend chiropractic treatment because he doesn’t know exactly what’s going on with my spine, he has no problem recommending acupuncture, which I think is a more permanent solution anyway. And yes, he can give me my first treatment today. Yippee!

I’m taken into another room - dark, three beds, and three chairs at the foot of the bed. There are already two women sitting in that room, although what they’re waiting for, I have no idea. I’m told to lie down on my stomach, and the doc punctures me.

I’m not sure exactly how many needles he uses, although I could check.

I checked. Ten. See, when we left, the nurse handed Fahim the needles that were used on me in a small plastic pill bottle - that way, they can reuse the same needles over and over, but you don’t have to worry about dirty needles or infection from other people. Considering that we were charged as much for the needles as we were for the acupuncture, yeah, I can go with that.

Anyway. Ten needles, and he sticks them in my back, neck, and one in the back of my left hand. Four of them I felt - nasty bites that felt like I was being stabbed. The other six I didn’t feel at all. When I commented on the stabbing from the four, doc said that it’s because the tissues are already inflamed, so it’s natural that it’ll hurt. But he also twisted them going in so that it’ll start working on pain relief immediately. Um, okay. Take yer word fer it, doc.

I lay there, with needles stuck in me, and I fall asleep. I have no idea how long I was actually lying there for. I could guess a half hour, but I don’t know for sure.

The nurse comes back and removes the needles and I figure that I’m done after asking some questions and getting pantomimed answers back. English is not spoken by the nurse I encountered, but evidently, she’s used to foreigners who don’t speak Sinhalese. Her gestures get the point across well enough.

I walk out, find Fahim, and the nurse hands him my needles, which he hands to me, and then I put them in a pocket of my backpack. Fahim pays the bill - 500 Rupees, half for the needles, half for the treatment. The doc wants me back tomorrow for another treatment.

We leave. Mervyn’s parked outside waiting for us, so we head home.

The pain in my back is already gone. I can still feel the tension in my back, but not the pain. But I can still feel pain in my neck and my head.

A couple of hours later, and I have only a headache left. Yes, I can still feel the tension in my shoulders and neck, but I also have a lot more range of motion back. I can move my head to the sides - 180 degrees - which is way better than it was before the acupuncture. I have a whole lot more mobility back. I’m happy with acupuncture.

And on another note, I also talked to him about my loose joint problem - you know, the thing that started this all off - my left shoulder coming out of joint, at least partially, if I sleep on my left side. He’s suggested that a combination of acupuncture, homeopathic treatments, and something else that I don’t remember can strengthen the joints enough that I won’t have as many problems with them. Yippee!

Considering that my regular doctors in Canada would only suggest surgery - but only after the joint has degraded enough to warrant surgery, and it isn’t feasible anyway for all the joints that exist in the human body - I’m happy with his suggestions.

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