Acupuncture--It Isn't For The Faint Of Heart, aka Needles In My Body? You've Got To Be Kidding!

I have, at times, a painful lower back and, since we're enumerating, a restless leg and arthritis in the hip, as a result of the stroke, the latter from bad posture I constantly (except when I'm not) try to correct. I tried everything around the house--heat packs, cold packs--and wasted a lot of money on Lidocaine-based, over-the-counter products from the pharmacy. But three weeks ago, I had an epiphany, truth be told, from desperation. Acupuncture! There are many places in Portland that offer it. But first, a little background.

Acupuncture, in a broad context, is a process in which skilled practitioners insert fine, thin needles through the skin in an effort to eliminate or lessen pain in the lower back, neck, and osteoarthritic knee, headache, migraine, dental pain, and nausea, for example.  The downside is substantial if a practitioner uses non-sterile needles which can cause infections, punctured and collapsed organs, and injury to the central nervous system, but in the hands of an experienced practitioner, (and if you're desperate enough), in my opinion, it's worth a try.

With the help of herbs, diet, and massage, acupuncture flourished in China and slowly spread around the world but was disdained by Western medicine. Yet today, even in China, there is confusion and mystery over just how acupuncture works.

From the NIH (National Institutes of Health), comes the bottom line: "Results from a number of studies suggest that acupuncture may help ease types of pain that are often chronic such as low-back pain, neck pain, and osteoarthritis/knee pain. It also may help reduce the frequency of tension headaches and prevent migraine headaches. Therefore, acupuncture appears to be a reasonable option for people with chronic pain to consider. However, clinical practice guidelines are inconsistent in recommendations about acupuncture.

"The effects of acupuncture on the brain and body and how best to measure them are only beginning to be understood. Current evidence suggests that many factors—like expectation and belief—that are unrelated to acupuncture needling may play important roles in the beneficial effects of acupuncture on pain."This from one site: Check acupuncturist's credentials. Most states require a license, certification, or registration to practice acupuncture; however, education and training standards and requirements for obtaining these vary from state to state. 

 I did and found this:

Although a license does not guarantee quality of care, it does indicate, Dr. Lu in my case, that the clinician is up to standard in the use of acupuncture. Some conventional medical practitioners—including physicians and dentists—practice acupuncture. But I couldn't find one. Ergo, Mercy and Wisdom Clinic. 

Mercy and Wisdom is weird both in the waiting room and the acupuncture rooms, the former having very low seats that I struggled to get out of and the latter, simply put, old fashioned with its high examining bed and it archaic case for supplies. But other than that, Dr. Lu knows her stuff. 

When I first met her, she explained how Chinese medicine was different than the Western kind, in engaging detail. It was all about having blockage where you shouldn't. And then the needles came out. It hurt at first, but Dr. Lu reassured me that the needles were placed where they were needed because if they went in to easily, that means they weren't addressing the blockage. The hurt went away in less than 5 minutes.

The needles, and 20 more, stayed in for an hour, and they were placed in something she called channels. She said my arm which has been dead for nine years could move, too. Dr. Lu suggested I'd walk for exercise. So I did, up and down the hall. My assistant, Joyce (I call her Joyce 2), came with me each time, and she was a key factor in my relaxation. Dr. Lu said I have to go a month to notice results with my sore lower back, my restless foot, and arthritis in the hip. She told me to avoid the night shade vegetables and fruits for arthritis: eggplant, tomatoes, peppers, and potatoes.

I stopped taking the Oxycodone after the 2nd visit. Maybe there is something about pain and acupuncture after all. I'll write and let you know when I take a significant step. 

My Sons, My Sons and the Makeshift Playroom

I have two sons. 

It was in the late 90s when a childless friend asked me during a hectic, weekday lunch, out of the blueish of blue, "Do you think I missed anything by not having kids?"

I answered him directly, "You love to travel. You went to places I didn't know exist. Travel with kids isn't always a possibility." 

But to myself, I silently shouted, "Hell, yes!" 

When my boys were young--one 7 and the other 2--I built them a playroom in our dingy basement with exposed pipes and a low ceiling, albeit high enough for them. Earl, my handyman, bought fluorescent lights and hangers that suspended them (that made the ceiling a teensy-bit lower). 

He bought a used television (he knew a guy) from which they would play video games. He installed a solid shelf for the television because boys will be boys. (If you don't know what that means, ask someone with two or more sons). 

He installed a heater/air conditioner unit because my thought process was it will be a 12-month to do. (And it was). He paneled part of it (my idea) and painted the rest (his idea) a soft yellow. And last, he installed a rug bought as a remnant but covered the whole floor because he made it fit. (The rug had 5 seams and Earl was good at math).

When it was finished, I brought the kids downstairs to see the outcome. It might have been put together cheaply, but it was the "playroom" and they loved it. 

Soon after, I built a 4x6 train set with fast-moving trains and railroad crossings and tiny people waiting on the platform in the playroom. Even though the planks of wood were wobbly (upper arm strength isn't my forte), it satisfied my sons.

I catered parties down in the playroom. Birthday parties, half-birthday parties, graduation parties starting with preschool. And more parties just for the sake of parties, many of them sleepovers. 

And then one by one, they left for college and stayed there after graduation in two respective different cities, both 6 hours from the house. That playroom existed as a monument to great, great times. 

It was followed by my bouts of depression and I asked the biggest question over and over again: Is that all there is? Sullen moods went on for a bunch of years until the youngest one graduated from college. And then a miracle happened a few years later. 

Both boys invited me, in the same year, as a guest visitor to see what they did for work. The older son, a Senior Programmer, showed me his workspace and explained in detail what he did to make things work and do what they did. My younger son, a Systems Administrator, showed me his workspace and what he did for networks, the lines of communication, to exist.

It was then I stopped thinking of them as children and moved on. 

My two sons were making a contribution and were self-sufficient. Isn't that what every parent wants? 

My stroke happened shortly after, and I knew, in all that despair, that my sons were going to be fine. Every time I thought that way, it led me to smile. 

Oxycodone and Me, a Failing (and Falling) Relationship

I last wrote the blog around Thanksgiving. And then I stopped altogether. Not because my ideas ran out. This post is now written and published, taking me 5 days in the process because of the pain when I sit too long. 

Let me give you the timeline and you'll see the consequences rather quickly, I imagine.

November 28: I had ear surgery because my eardrum had a hole in it caused by increasingly larger tubes to hear. The surgery was successful and the Oxycodone was effective to avoid the ear pain. 

November 28-December 5: I have a low tolerance for pain and took 7 to 9 Oxy tablets the first week to maintain my level of comfort. 

December 6-13: Then the second week 6 to 8. I wasn't a drug addict yet but on my way because, truth be told, because Oxycodone is a narcotic, and the rate of people taking taking too much narcotic(s) and dying is at epidemic proportions across all populations--the rich and poor, the professionals and the unemployed, the brain trusts and the brainless. Thus, I always asked myself, Am I in pain pain or is the pain tolerable? But I always opted for the Oxy because I had become chemically addicted. 

December 18: I was in the beginning of my third week taking Oxy as much as the second week when I fell to the floor around 1am and hit the end table next to my bed. I called my son to bring the key over to let the paramedics in on my iPhone, or what I call my lifeline. Then I called the paramedics and soon realized, in the post-surgery, perpetual state of Oxy-controlled haze, that I should go the hospital because I hit my head from a standing position and my ribs ached.

The ambulance, with sirens flashing, brought me to the hospital and while there, the ER doc ordered a CT scan of my head and X-rays. He gave me Tramadol and then Dilaudid to ease the pain. Then he gave me Oxycodone, the drug I had been taking following the ear surgery. The results of the tests showed my head wasn't affected, but 2, maybe 3 of my ribs were broken. The ribs take roughly 8 weeks to heal in a young person. Mine will take longer.

December 18-January 23: I ended up in the rehab facility across from the hospital. By the time I left the facility, I was down to 2 Oxycodones daily. Now I avoid them sometime because the pain is less and it is tolerable. I was chemically addicted and now 2 or less a day. I consider myself lucky, addicted-to-narcotics wise. 

January 23 to present: I returned home. My doc ordered 60 more Oxy just in case I still had ongoing pain. They're still waiting at the pharmacy. 

Of course, it was the Oxy that made me lose my balance and fall. I should have taken my time instead of going at my normal pace. But the Oxy operates differently. It makes the brain think it's invulnerable. 

Bottom line: I didn't read the brochure from the pharmacy that came with Oxycodone explaining the side effects like dizziness and the falling risk, but I should have. Oh, yeah. Lesson learned too late.

Go to Hell, Black Friday! aka The Top Ten Things I Am Thankful For On Thanksgiving

Right around this time of year, I often write about the misadventures of Black Friday, but I've finally learned not to participate because as a stroke survivor, I have fears of getting trampled or shot or assaulted, though it's not without basis, and one of so many stories.

Here's an example that occurred in 2011 as reported by the Huffington Post that game me pause. "A Black Friday shopper who collapsed while shopping at a Target store in West Virginia went almost unnoticed as customers continued to hunt for bargain deals. Walter Vance, a 61-year-old pharmacist who reportedly suffered from a prior heart condition, later died in the hospital. Witnesses say some shoppers ignored and even walked over the man’s body as they continued to shop." (Want to see more? Go to http://blackfridaydeathcount.com. You might be Amazon shopping this time forever after!)

Anyway, this time I am posting about what I am thankful for on Thanksgiving (in that partially made-up story about the Pilgrims and the Indians whose land we stole even though the Indians were here first. Just sayin'). Make no mistake. Those who know know me realize that my life had given me tough times, some necessary detours, to get around the shit tossed my way, and this is not a time, meaning never, to elaborate. So here are the top ten things for me to be thankful for.

1.  I am grateful that I am alive. I was close to death 8-1/2 years ago, with no thanks to my hemorrhagic stroke, but here I am, getting up and dusting myself off when another piece of crap goes flying my way. Why am I here still? As my son says, you're too annoying to die. Granted, I am pushy, and with that comes the will to live. And positivity is a part of that attitude. But the overwhelming positive side, truth be told, is, if I wasn't laughing, I would be crying, making my baggy eyes even baggier. So every day, I make a concerted effort to wake up happy, even if I'm not, because who wants to waste all that energy on being negative. (Sorry for that, but that's what's called an interior rant, aka stream of consciousness).

2.  I am grateful for my 2 sons (who shall remain nameless) who give me thoughtful insights at times when I most need it. I give them thoughtful insights, too, with the response always being, "Mom! Don't try to FIX things! You're meddlesome!" They say I am controlling, and maybe I am, less so as the years go forward. But I know they heard me and will think about my words, often later taking my suggestions. I don't say a word.

3.  I am grateful that I learned about a year ago how to successfully (the operative word) tie my shoes one-handed. This procedure, too, was borne of necessity. There just isn't somebody around at times. Video forthcoming in YouTube.

4.  I am grateful that I learned that the best Personal Assistants anticipate my needs without my saying, "Could you...." The only two that showed up for the interview in Speedboat Coffee in Portland (I was expecting eight) were Norma and Joyce #2. I couldn't ask for better. I often say, "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" And I mean it.

5.  I am grateful that I learned, through my weekly sessions in counseling, not to live in the past. The sessions went on for about three years. I'm a slow learner, meaning I'm bright yet stubborn, and it took a lot of time for my counselor to break through the barrier of obstinance. Great work, T.

6.  I am grateful that I learned that I shop online just to make me feel better. Amazon Queen, they call me (not to be confused with Queen of the Amazons, a 1947 flick where a woman's husband has disappeared on an expedition into the jungle and she discovers that he has been captured by a savage female tribe. Campy, right?) After many procedures and an operation, not counting the two upcoming this month, what's wrong with a little shopping therapy! It's cheaper than "talk" therapy and at least I enjoy the online trip with laughter and total glee without ordering needlessly.

7.  I am grateful that I learned that I like a lot of plants. I mean, OBSESSIVELY A LOT! Around twenty in front of an almost floor to ceiling, three-paned window. I'm allergic to cats and I can't walk a dog, plus birds are too much work, and fish don't do it for me. But my maternal instincts are still in play, so I take care of plants. Rather, my Personal Assistant waters them, feeds them, and gathers errant leaves that have somehow fallen off. I just watch them, keeping a loving eye on the plants that never move.

8.  I am grateful that I learned about the iPhone, more than just texting and clicking an app to activate it. Katie and Jody in Pittsburgh taught me so much and now Norma and Joyce #2 have taken over. But I'm grateful also that I can text with one hand. Life is good. I got the iPhone later than most people. Read about it in my post from 2015: https://stroketales.blogspot.com/2015/01/why-i-still-have-flip-phone-aka-i.html

9. I am grateful that I am never once bored in my apartment. Between writing, reading, and going to the refrigerator or kitchen cabinet to give me an excuse once an hour to stand and move, sometimes often without hunger, I keep busy. See my post about sitting too much: https://stroketales.blogspot.com/2013/07/the-5-ws-and-h-of-getting-up-and-moving.html

10. I am grateful that I am not associated in any way with Donald Trump, Louis CK, Kevin Spacey, Harvey Weinstein, Bill Cosby, and scores of others, some of them still yet unknown, who brought shame upon themselves and anger, tears, and painful memories to their victims.

Now that we ended on a bad note, let's get back to the point. So tell me, dear reader, what are YOU thankful for? Write in the Comments section below. And Happy Thanksgiving!