October 10, 2002
Needling

My aforementioned cousin was up here visiting from San Francisco, where she’s studying acupuncture. She and her fellow students are encouraged to practice on each other and on themselves and on friends ‘n’ relations willing to volunteer. She brought some needles with her (small gauge, in two sterile packets of four needles each), and since I have a high pain threshold and a low curiosity threshold, I stepped up, as did my pal Eric.

This was an opportunity for my cousin to practice technique rather than to produce a specific theraputic result, so we told her to chose any point she wanted to work on. I went first, and my cousin started with Zanzhu, at the midpoint between my eyebrows. I donate blood pretty regularly, so I know the needle goes in more comfortably when I’m relaxed. I trust my cousin, so I wasn’t tense and the entry of the needle was completely painless, but it made a hard-to-describe, not-quite-tingly, almost-like-tugging sensation that moved over my forehead in waves. At one point I got that creepy, slightly nauseating hyperawareness of a foreign body in my skin, and - again because of the good folks at the Puget Sound Blood Center - I knew that this feeling passes if I just stop thinking about it. After a while, I forgot the needle was there.

Eric went next, with a point just below the knee (I can't remember which side, though, so I can't look up the name). As the needle went in, he said he didn’t feel it. My cousin started manipulating the needle, turning it and moving it up and down, and he said he felt it then, but didn't really describe what it was like. After a few moments, though, he said he was a little nauseated, and then suddenly turned pale. My cousin took out the needle, and he stretched out on the rug to recover.

(I secretly thought he was a wuss, but I didn’t say anything.)

When Eric was feeling better, I took another turn. My cousin chose Yuji, at the fleshy part of the palm just below my right thumb. Again, there was no pain, but this time it felt like the muscle was being pulled from below as she manipulated the needle. It was pretty darn keen, especially when I found out I could make the needle twitch by bending my thumb at the knuckle. But then I started to feel nauseated and a little lightheaded myself.

Without Eric’s example, I would have played tough and waited to see if the feeling would pass...and if I had, I probably would have fainted altogether. Even though my cousin took the needle out right away, my ears started to ring, and while I didn’t pass out, at one point I could hear that she and Eric were talking, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying.

Three minutes later I was fine, and I apologized to Eric.

My cousin told us that acupuncture can lower blood pressure, and oddly we may have felt faint because we were both so relaxed about it. We were both ready to try it again, though, so she needled Eric at Hegu, on the back of hand. He reported a slight electric sensation, and even with a lot of needle manipulation didn’t have a problem with faintness.

Daling was next for me, the point on my right wrist between the tendons. I felt an electric tingle so powerful my middle finger jerked involuntarily toward my palm. With a little manipulation, a milder version of the sensation spread through my palm, thumb, and index finger, like the funny bone being struck, minus the pain of the initial blow. Again, no problems with dizziness or nausea.

Eric took another turn, this time with Dicang, at the left cheek, near the lip. I was stretched out on the couch, and from that angle it looked a bit like Eric was holding the needle in his mouth.

It was getting late, but I took one more turn. My cousin picked Zhao Hai, on my left ankle. Again, I had a completely different sensation - it was strangely gentle, and very soothing. Zhao Hai is indicated for insomnia, and I can see why.

I think my cousin is going to make a great acupuncturist...and it's about time one of us took this needling business literally.