I promise you I went into that acupuncture appointment with an open mind.
I mean, I really wanted to like the guy. And I really wanted the ancient Chinese remedy to actually be a viable form of treatment for me.
I decided to arrange the appointment after getting a text from my best friend suggesting I try it. She was about the 27th person to recommend it, so I took it as a sign and Googled “acupuncture” + “the name of the closest city.”
I called the first place that came up.
They had the word “medical” in their name, so I figured that must be sort of legit. I gave the receptionist my full name, address, and insurance information and set up a morning appointment in two days.
My mom says it’s a bad sign when they can get you in that fast. But I was in so much pain that I convinced myself it was because they just cared so darn much.
When the fateful morning arrived, my mom drove me to the appointment.
They started with the same type of stuff every doctor starts with: 30 minutes worth of paperwork and asking if my grandpa’s cousin’s dog ever had glaucoma or heart disease, which was followed by a nurse and vitals.
Finally, after being there for about an hour, the doctor came in. He was friendly enough, and as I went through the crazy winding story of how I ended up in his office after waking up with random rib pain last year — with no known cause — I really did hope he’d be able to magically fix me.
He listened to all the details, proclaimed that he “gets lucky a lot,” and asked me do a urine test right then and there. About three minutes after I submitted the sample, he came back in and said it showed that I had “leaky gut.”
That’s about when the crazy started. He launched into a speech on how I needed to go on a very strict diet for the next three months, and take piles of supplements, which I could, of course, conveniently buy from him. That, combined with acupuncture, would probably fix me.
Except the diet wasn’t gluten-free or vegetarian or fat-free. It was literally:
- No potato
- No dairy
- No beef
- No pork
- No coffee
- No sugar
- No wheat
- And nothing in a bottle, box, can or jar.
So basically chicken, broccoli, and three cups of fruit a day.
The doctor assured me that this was going to help me lose some of the weight I’d gained from the medications. Which makes sense, because anytime you give up four major food groups, you’re bound to lose some weight.
He had a handout on the diet and everything, which made me think it was the same diet plan he gave to all of his new patients, regardless of their condition.
Oh, and of course, he said I needed to start taking myself off all the prescriptions I was currently on, a little at a time, every two days. Except, you know, it took me more than a year to find the right drug regimen, and without them I’m in complete agony, no matter how many supplements I take.
Then, before I even knew what was happening, he started an acupuncture session on me.
I don’t know how that crazy rumor started about how you’re not able to actually feel the acupuncture needles because they’re so small, but it’s a bunch of crap. Not only could I feel every single needle, I also was bleeding when they took them out.
After poking me with at least 15 needles all over my body, ranging from my calves to my forehead, he said I had to do deep breathing for 20 minutes and then a nurse would be by to take the needles out.
As I lay there, I tried to stay calm and focus on breathing in and out, but 20 minutes is a long time. I spent most of it dreaming about the beef and cheddar sandwiches my mom and I were going to get after the appointment at the nearby Arby’s. Man, I love their fries. So yeah, the diet part probably wasn’t for me.
After the needles were taken out, the nurse did a two-minute laser treatment on my right side. The laser was never explained to me and it didn’t do anything for me, but it didn’t hurt, so whatever.
All in all, after everything, I didn’t feel one ounce better than I had before I walked in the door. Even so, I still was planning to come back for another appointment. I mean, I could be open to multiple acupuncture sessions if that’s what it took.
But as I sat down to schedule my next visit, the nurse tried to sell me all the supplements I supposedly needed to get better. Although they didn’t have everything the doctor had recommended to me in stock, what they did have came to $200.
When I tried to tell the woman that I don’t just have $200 extra dollars, she seemed annoyed that I wasn’t taking my health seriously. And when I asked if there was just one important supplement I could buy, she replied, “They’re all really important and they all work together.”
That’s when I knew I wouldn’t be back.
I paid my $35 for the urine test that I didn’t need, and another $30 for the co-pay I calculated in my head — just to be sure I didn’t get any follow-up bills from the place. Then, I made a follow-up appointment that I had no intention of keeping.
I really do wish getting better was as simple as eating less dairy, taking $200 worth of supplements, and having 15 needles stuck throughout my body a few times a week. But after enduring this excruciating pain for as long as I have, I know better than to buy the snake oil.
Crystal Lindell is journalist who lives in Byron, Illinois. She loves Taco Bell, watching “Burn Notice” episodes on Netflix and Snicker’s Bites. She has had pain in her right ribs since February 2013. It is currently undiagnosed.
Crystal writes about it on her blog, The Only Certainty is Bad Grammar.
The information in this column is not intended to be considered as professional medical advice, diagnosis or treatment. Only your doctor can do that! It is for informational purposes only and represents the author’s personal experiences and opinions alone. It does not inherently or expressly reflect the views, opinions and/or positions of National Pain Report or Microcast Media.