Needles and Pins

I went for acupuncture again this morning with my father's partner, the first time having acupuncture with her since disclosing my status to the two of them. It's still an uncomfortable memory, seeing them both try to get their heads around it, his closing in on himself, her scrabbling in the dark for the bright side. A face on which mine was modelled the confusion and upset that my status can cause was a difficult thing to watch, but I hope that I did the right thing by telling them.

I think I did. I know I did, he's a part of my family, he's a part of me, it wouldn't be fair on either of us to maintain the illusion that nothing was wrong when it must have been clear to anyone who knew me that something had happened to spur on such a rapid sequence of major life changes, the weight loss, the leaving the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, the OCD approach to healthy living, the neurotic reinvention of myself. Surely there's got to be something going on behind all of that?

Still, none of it is bad in itself, I'd say, although some of the changes I've been through over the last few months do leave me with a lingering sadness. Sadness at what I could have become if I'd kept using drugs the way I was last Summer. If I'd let that recklessness really take hold, I'm sure that would have been far more of a death sentence that this infection could ever be. Heh, so perhaps I should be glad in some ways for the wake-up call this gave me, that diagnosis shocked me out of the nihilistic drug spiral I was in, all the while telling everyone that it was all just too fabulous.

The acupuncture was the same as it always was, starting out with a twenty-minute run-down of what's happening for me, health-wise (how many hyphens in that sentence?). It meant I got to explain to her some of the symptoms of the virus, that it means I sweat more than I should, I'm more likely to get stomach problems and that I get fatigue sometimes, but the last is more likely to be to do with the ridiculous miles-per-gallon I seem to expect from my body. Add to that the slight chesty cough I have (along with half of London) and the nagging feeling my shinsplints might be coming back and she had plenty of stuff to work on.

The first point is on the crown. The first time I had that, it freaked me out and made me wonder if I could move even if I wanted to. It's that odd a sensation to know you've got a needle stuck in your skull. The usual points went in on my forehead and my chest, points on my shins and feet and then she placed a needle in the crook of my elbow which she said would help with my fever. It immediately sent waves of sensation through me, to the extent that I was actually afraid of the next point being done and flinched when the needle went in.

Relaxed, listening to some music with pan pipes that I think I might ask her to turn off next time because it annoyed me more than it needed to, to the point where I was wondering how much damage it would do me to get up and put the radio on to Xfm so I could lie there and smile instead of rolling my eyes and getting annoyed with all the meaningful music. I'm not very tolerant of things meant to make you relax, aromatherapy makes me angry, most whalesong music makes me murderous. Or hungry.

When she came back through after half an hour that the points in my arm were still really active. I moved my head, feeling a bit like Dipsy the teletubby with a needle in my scalp (and yes, I had to look up on Google which one it is with the dildo head, I don't remember them by name) and the needle in my arm was spinning and twitching. It was quite comical, although then she said that if the needle remains active for ages it means it really needs some regular treatment. The point is one for fever, so I guess it's good that she feels acupuncture can help with the sweats. I'll have to see, although I think I should try to block out time regularly to go to see her, so I can get regular treatment and sneak in a little time with my Dad, which is probably just as therapeutic.