Needles, Fishbowls, and Herbs

Let's pretend that you are the sick one for a moment. You've been sick for years with a lot of difficult symptoms. You have been to multiple western doctors and had umpteen loads (a very precise number) of tests. All of your normal doctors tell you you are a normal and healthy human being. You know you are not. And I know that you are not. Fortunately for you, I have a friend who thinks they can help. This person practices acupuncture. Because I think you deserve to know what you're getting into, I decide to tell you how your journey will begin.

First, my friend is going to make you undress and get into a paper nightgown. Then she will take your pulses. This is not western medicine, where you and I are familiar with one pulse. This is acupuncture where you have multiple pulses, all taken at about the same location on your arm. Then, my friend is going to evaluate your tongue. It may look swollen or a slightly wrong shade of red, but don't worry that is treatable. But here's where your journey gets really interesting. After the evaluation my friend is going to stick needles in you. Not just one or two, but maybe two dozen. The needles don't hurt, but you are very aware that they are in your shins and hands and feet and arms. My friend leaves you; you begin to feel a little drugged and eventually nod off to sleep until my friend comes back over an hour later. You turn over onto your stomach. In go more needles. They are up and down either parts of your spine, in your neck, in the backs of your legs. After another hour you are done. My friend tells you that you may be ill after the first treatment. And you are. That evening you can barely lift your head. You are nauseated. You ache. Your muscles feel heavy and tired. Your digestive system is upset. You feel feverish. It will last an entire week, but don't worry, you have another acupuncture appointment the following week, after which you will be ill again. Again, don't worry. Soon my friend will also give you herbs (all legal, of course) and then heat very tiny fishbowls and put them on your back to such out all of the toxins.

If you grew up with traditional western medicine, then by now you probably think I'm crazy. But here's the thing - acupuncture has been around for thousands of years; and it is a central method of health care for hundreds of millions of people. It also happens to be covered by your health insurance. So why not give it a try?

Tailbone Pain - In Real Time

I have had on and off tailbone pain for about 9 months (despite rounds of professionally monitored physical therapy and osteopathic manipulations and individually monitored stretching and strengthening). This week, the pain was unbearable. It felt (and feels) like a vice is slowly crushing my tailbone (vertically). And almost nothing I do helps. I couldn't sleep, I couldn't sit comfortably, I couldn't focus at work. I am beginning to wonder if my tailbone isn't broken.

Celiac Disease & The Beginning of Food Therapy

June 2006, San Diego -

I had been ill for about a year. Multiple courses of drugs had been unhelpful. A long-shot potential diagnosis - Celiac Disease. No insurance. No blood test. No problem.

Celiac Disease is an autoimmune disease. The way it works - man ingests gluten(a protein found in wheat, barley, rye and oats), immune system attacks gluten, intestine is damaged in the ensuing battle, damaged intestine can't absorb nutrients, nutrient deficiencies produce illness.

The treatment for Celiac Disease - diet. I was desperate. I stopped eating all things gluten. Two weeks passed. I did not feel well, but I did feel better. My teeth stopped aching. My muscles stopped aching. The night sweats were less. It was the first relief I experienced. It was the beginning of my experimentation with food therapy, the only therapy to have any effect on my health in the five years of illness.

The Depths of Illness - Brain Fog

It is 2005. I am sitting next to my father in a doctor's office. A diagnostic specialist is asking me questions. I stumble through answers. It is difficult to put together a sentence. I cannot think of common words or in what order they are supposed to go. The chronology of events is mixed up in my head. I cannot remember the names of drugs I've already taken. I cannot remember the names of places that I had been. I cannot remember all of my symptoms. Brain fog is preventing me from accessing certain parts of my memory, speech, logical thinking, creativity, and more. This is not an isolated incident. This is my new life.

I am interviewing for Engineering job in 2006. The interviewer is asking me typical questions. What is your greatest strength? I have prepared an answer for this questions, but I cannot remember what it is. My brain seems slow. I stumble through an answer. They ask another question. I cannot think of a reply. I finally answer something incoherent. I do not get the job. I do not blame the company. I would not hire me either.

I am working as an engineer. It is my second day. I am in my bosses office. He gives me an assignment. I walk back to my desk. I sit down to do the assignment. I cannot remember what I am supposed to do. I struggle to remember what had been asked of me not two minutes prior. I cannot remember. I go back to my boss and ask him to repeat the assignment. It is embarrassing. I wonder how long I will be employed.

It is 2007. I am taking the Fundamentals of Engineering (FE) exam. The morning has gone relatively well. Lunchtime changes everything. My brain starts to shut down while eating my peanut butter and apples. I think about taking a nap but decide against. The second half of the test begins. I start reading and answering questions. I am hot. I start to sweat. I lose focus. My brain feels like mush. I cannot remember any of the concepts and formulas that I have been studying for six months. I reread the same question over and over again. It is no use. My brain is misfiring. I close the test booklet and leave. This is my life...

Memorial Day - In Real Time

I had acupuncture for the first time the Friday before Memorial Day. It was interesting. I was sick afterward - actually I'm still sick. Stomach pains. Neck stiffness. Fatigue. Frequent Urination. Digestive Issues. Poor sleep.

Despite the sickness, I walked (I usually walk a few miles a day). On Memorial Day Ingrid and I walked to the beach, where a bunch of friends were playing volleyball.

I sat and watched. I did not feel like talking. Illness consumes my mind. And I can sense that illness is as depressing for other (healthy) people to hear about as it is to experience. It makes it difficult to relate to other people. At least I have Ingrid...