Yesterday evening, upon arriving in California (after the second most hellish flying experience of my life, more on that later) I was told that I would be going to a “physical” with the acupuncturist my father and stepmother frequent. I had been twice before to see her last summer, for ear troubles. The acupuncturist here in Upland is J. Lee Acupuncture. It is staffed by two twin women, whose anglicized names are Jenny and Gena, and who were raised in Korea and trained in ancient Chinese medicine in China for nearly a decade. They are fourth or fifth generation traditional healers. They chatter to each other mostly in Korean, but speak to their clients in English – never broken, but often simple.

Upon arriving, they sat down with my father, sister, and me, in their one room office. They used to have a nicer office but moved to this location when business slowed. They work two days a week in Upland, and three in Beverly Hills, where their other office is located.

Both dressed in white coats, they lavished praise on my sister and me, my ability to say a few Chinese phrases, and our scholastic abilities they heard about from my Dad. They rested our wrists on a small purple pillow embossed with a few Chinese characters and took our pulses. Both of us were told to have low energy. Their abilities here impress me – by looking and prodding at you, they recognize deep-set problems in your organs. Then, they harped on my sister and my postures – too slouched, not good for the spine, the conductor of energy. I told her about my anxiety issues and wavering appetite. She told me I had to eat “good food, good nutrition, for good energy. If you don’t eat well, your entire body suffers – often people who eat poorly get unstable and anxious.”

Then came the real work these women do. I was directed into a curtained-off area, where a low table with a hole for the face stood. I was asked to undress and put on a loose, hospital-esque robe. While awaiting her return, I examined a framed poster on the wall, diagramming some pressure points on an adult’s front and scalp, and those on children. Jenny does acupuncture on her 18 month old, and tell us he enjoys it!

When Jenny, the woman who worked with me today, returned, I gave her a more detailed sense of my personal history. She picked up on my over-achieving nature, telling me that I didn’t need to stress so much over my work because I clearly would do just fine. She told me that when feeling really tense I should tell myself “it doesn’t matter.” This may sound silly, but hearing her philosophical musings on letting go gave me a new perspective. She proceeded to give me a treatment to ease tension. After a harsh massage of my upper back, much clucking and talk of misalignment, she began the acupuncture. From plastic package out of the pocket of her coat, she procured a set of needles – which were about two inches long, skinny and flexible; I believe they are spring loaded, as the top of the needle, a few centimeters in length, had what appeared to be a tiny spring on it. She placed her fingers over the area to be punctured, and with what felt like a small pinch, placed the needle in my skin. Sometimes it felt as though someone had simply poked me with a fingernail, others it hurt slightly. Often my muscles flinched. She told me that this is very natural. I cannot say how deep the needles sat, but in light of the small amount of pain I believe it not to have been deep. She placed needles about my upper spine, lower back, and on my left buttock. After they were placed I could not feel them, unless I tensed and moved the area. Some needles were placed symmetrical on my body, others were not. Then, after making sure I was fine, she left, pulled the curtain closed, and left me to ruminate on the Pampers box full of suction cups below me, listen to my sister be massaged and talk to her practitioner, close my eyes and concentrate on the classical music and waterfall ambience, or, as I did, attempt to concentrate on the music but in fact listen to my talk to my father about my health (amazingly, she remembered many details from my visit eighteen months ago – and I saw no records out!).

After about ten minutes, she came in, and with quick movements and a slight pinch pulled out the needles. After asking me to flip over to my back, she repeated the same procedure, placing four needles in what felt was a diamond formation on my belly, and symmetrically placed some on my knees, the area near my big toe, and on the fleshy area behind my thumbs. Again, she left me for a few minutes, and went to talk with Gina, her partner, about Suellen. Gina had noticed that Suellen had been favoring her left leg due to a sprain of her right ankle. She told Sue to exercise more, get plenty of sun, and do stretches before all exercise. They were happy to learn that she did Aikido, an Eastern art of self defense designed by monks who did not wish to hurt their attackers.  It involves much relaxation and philosophy. Gina and Jenny knew the word in Korean.

Jenny returned, plucked the needles with swift fingers, and I dressed – a tad embarrassed at her having seen me in only my underwear, I will admit, and not my favorite pair at that.

Afterwards, Jenny talked to me again about proper nutrition –“eat three meals a day, at the same time, whether you are hungry or not. This is very important. Also” she again adjusted my shoulders back, pressed on my spine, and pushed back on my sternum “sit up straight! Be gorgeous, show off your chest. Good posture is so important. You are young, in twenty or thirty years it is bad, it is very hard to fix it.” She gave me some herbal medicine (very expensive, alas) and told me to stay away from prescription drugs “these only work so long. Some people have to be on them their whole lives! Then, they have stomach problems, organ problems, and more drugs. This is bad.”

As a practitioner of acupuncture, Jenny focuses on fixing chronic problems, not illness. She is concerned with the whole body, and can treat problems in the shoulder by messing with one’s feet. Some call this practice hokey and medieval, at best, but I believe there is something to a medicine with centuries and centuries of practice. Also, my father, quite a skeptic, swears by them: “the things they say sound hokey, and they have a hard time explaining what they are doing in English, but they do know what they are talking about.”

I find going very enjoyable. These two are very friendly, and it is nice to be fussed over, massaged, and, though it sounds ridiculous, the needles themselves can be relaxing. Perhaps it is just being left to lie on a table for ten minutes in a quiet atmosphere.

I hope I can return, and wonder what other acupuncturists around the US are like. Perhaps once back in Fort Worth I can find one there and report.