East completely surpasses West.
Last week, I suffered from what was probably a severe muscle spasm. I didn't do anything specific to pull it - there was no "ooh, that's going to hurt later" moment - so I didn't know what it was at the time. Being in the midst of a bladder infection, I was concerned it might be my kidney. It started as pain in my right flank on Monday night. Then after a good night's sleep, it was gone Tuesday. Wednesday it came back, didn't go away, and got worse Thursday, until it was throbbing mercilessly. I always have to ask myself, "At what point do you make the call?" Well, you make the call when you're lying down in pain and can't do anything but make a phone call. So I called Charles to take me to the hospital.
The emergency room was the classic 4-hour deal: Wait in the lobby for a spell. Answer some questions. Wait some more. Get called in. Wait some more. At least they came around with warm blankets. Over the course of the 4 hours, I spent approximately 15-20 minutes with various people only to find that the urine and blood tests and the CAT scan showed absolutely nothing. "That's good!" they said. Well, I guess so, but how can I prevent something of which I don't know the cause? I was sent home with a Vicoden prescription, plus one right then, and was told it's probably muscular.
I guess that makes sense. But it makes me feel kind of weak and stupid for making a trip to the emergency room for something that's just "probably muscular," given basic painkillers and sent home, all for probably well over $1,000. No insurance - I'm a cash kid. It'll likely take me a year to pay this off.
By the way, this all happened during the week leading up to The Choral Project's big fundraiser, which I was running. So I'm trying to organize shit and can't even think straight.
I survived the fundraiser without any trouble. The following week I tried to take it easy and I didn't encounter any more crazy pain, but I was utterly drained and having trouble recovering. I'm sure part of it was fallout from weeks of fundraiser prep, but I thought I should be better by Wednesday or Thursday. I dragged through work at the bead store and was completely useless the rest of the time. I finally booked an appointment with my acupuncturist.
Friday morning, I went to see Parviz. Two and half hours of treatment included a hot tea for calming, moxibustion, infrared lights, hot packs, cupping, bloodletting, electrostimulation, seven-star hammer, roller, massage, more hot packs, an herbal patch, a seed for each ear, some arthromax, and plenty of needles, not to mention the gentle music and pleasant company. He said the bloodletting showed a possible rupture or at least stagnation of the blood. He suggested that the performis or sciatica had acted up and caused pain to flair up, or that a disc may have bulged out. Hey, some answers! Cool!
Oh yeah, I paid less than a $100.
By Saturday, I felt a hundred times better and got through a full work day at the bead store, including teaching a two and a half hour class with no problem.
We are blessed to live in an age with so many treatment options. But this just underlines (and bolds and italicizes) why I will go to my acupuncturist 9 times out of 10.
