Acupuncture and Hibernation

This week, I got acupuncture for the first time. I had heard great things about it, and so when I saw a Groupon, I snatched that bad boy right up. After I bought it, I found out that my insurance covers 24 visits of acupuncture per year, so that was a good waste of $40. 

Anyway, I was a little bit nervous about it. Particularly about the needle part. The acupuncturist asked me some very intimate questions—males should not read this next part. This means you, Billy—like the color, thickness, and odor of my blood on my period. Yuck. I’ll spare you my responses. After giving him my menstrual autobiography, the acupuncturist then asked me if I had any questions to which I said “No” (I REALLY just wanted for him to get on with it). He said, “Wow, you must have done a lot of research then”. Ummmm…sure.

He then proceeded to look at my tongue—thank goodness I brushed my teeth that morning. Apparently, you can tell a lot about how your body is functioning by what your tongue looks like. My tongue is too purple, has thicker than normal white-stuff yum, and the sides of it have teeth markings. Which means that my liver isn't doing a good job, I have excess phlegm in my body, and my liver isn't doing a good job. So apparently, I've been diagnosed as a raging alcoholic? 

He then took my pulse in two different spots on each wrist. He felt stagnation in the spot that coincides with my reproductive organs, so either he really found something or he just read what I wrote on my patient form: infertility because of endometriosis (spell check wanted to change that to optometrists). And from another pulse spot, he could tell that I hold my stress and tension in my neck and shoulders—that one was more impressive.

After he diagnosed me, I lay down fully clothed, and he started putting in those damn needles. He put about 5 in my left hand, 1 between my eyes, 1 in my right hand, and then 5 more on my legs and feet. And then he left me alone for 40 minutes. I’m not gonna lie--my left hand kind of hurt like a mother. I think he poked a nerve. And halfway through, my legs started twitching. When he took the needles out, I was so relieved, but also kind of scared because I had little red spots where the needles had been. I also didn't realize there would be blood on the needles afterwards. Cue my squeamishness.

I know you are supposed to keep doing treatments weekly for acupuncture, but I wasn't too impressed. I was kind of thinking it would be more pleasant—like a massage. I believe it works and all, but I also believe I am more of a modern medicine kind of gal. I’m too skeptical to do anything that unpleasant again unless they give me Valium. My fertility clinic gives me Valium during some of the more painful procedures and it is definitely my drug of choice. In the Griffith family, half of the children have the TBG gene (Thomas Beall Griffith) which means that we are perfectionists, have OCD, have major anxiety, and can’t shut off our planning brains just like our Daddy. That Valium is the temporary cure to my TBG woes.

After that eventful appointment, this weekend was pretty embarrassing for the Strong household. A friend once commented on how adventurous we are—probably because of my relentless Instagram feed @torstrong which tries to prove how much fun we have. However, I am here to attest to you that most of the time, we are about as fun as your typical old married couple. You would think we were hibernating. In our defense, there really is nothing to do on winter nights except eat and watch movies. We had planned on going down to St. George, but it wasn't that much warmer down there and I can only golf in at least 70 degree weather. Plus, our golfing buddies couldn't make it down with us. 

In Provo, the bone-chilling wind howled for three days straight and we had the house to ourselves, so of course we ventured outside as little as possible. I think we left the house maybe four times in three days. I would be shocked if our total TV time was less than 30 hours. Once while on a diet coke run, I told Billy I had to drive so I could use my brain for something (since driving takes so much brain power?) On a less depressing note, I made a scientific discovery—your muscles CAN atrophy in a single day.

Below is an actual conversation that took place on Sunday night:

Billy: We should move

Me: So we can get a puppy? Great idea, I’ll start looking at apartments! (My mother-in-law has a strict No Pets Living at the Compound rule)

Billy: I meant off the couch.

So, needless to say, we are already in the right frame of mind for a good old-fashioned wear-your-leggings-so-you-can-watch-football-and-stuff-your-face Thanksgiving dinner.

I hope you all have a happy Thanksgiving with your family and loved ones!
I'll be dreaming of warmer and more productive times in Cabo and Lake Powell. While still being thankful, of course.

Billy teaching me to surf

Boat ride with my Macster

Strong Family