If you think about it, the Wizard of Oz is really about the Serenity Prayer. The tin man wants a heart to be able to love the things he can't change; the lion, some courage to change the things he can; and the scarecrow, a brain with which to know the difference.
Most of my life I've begged the wizard for a heart ... to be able to accept my hand of cards and play them gladly, no resentment whatsoever for the suicidal ideations, lovely medication side effects, and other heath conditions that make me feel as though I'd fit right in with the rowdy crowd at our local diner's early bird special.
But this month, I'm concentrating more on acquiring and using courage ... the courage to become my own best health advocate, to fight back against a corrupt and dangerously incompetent medical system in this country, to fire the doctors who could care less if my symptoms worsen or impede my recovery so that I flip the bill for the surgery required down the line.
Don't get me wrong: I believe in medicine. I believe it is our friend and ally in the war against mood disorders and other illnesses. It's the professionals administering the pills I'm worried about. Some of them are brilliant ... like Dr. Smith, my psychiatrist. Many are not. And I'm no longer going to tolerate the ones that do not hold my hand as I do everything I possibly can to acquire good health ... not just for my limbic system, but also for my endocrine system, my respiratory system, and my entire nervous system.
If you're confused and have absolutely no idea what I'm talking about, I suggest you ask you doctor for your medical records. Gauge her response. It's a telltale sign. When I failed to procure my mental health records from a psychiatrist I used to see after three written requests plus a few verbal ones, I knew it was time to leave. Last week I camped out in the offices of my endocrinologist because the first two efforts at obtaining my records over the phone were blown off.
"You know what," I told the assistant, "I think I'll just come in and hang out in your offices until I get them." A half-hour later, photocopies were made and I went home with an ambitious assignment: to learn everything about my pituitary tumor that I could, as well as the side effects of the medication I am taking, which--surprise!--may be responsible for most of my cardiac and respiratory problems.
I began to study the endocrine system just like I did the limbic system three years ago in order to better understand my mood disorder. The results were fascinating ... which I'll share in a future blog about the mongo role of the hypothalamic-pituitary-adrenal (HPA) axis and the correlation between specific hormones and mood ... think PMS and you have an idea of what I'm talking about.
For some reason I thought that my journey down the endocrine and cardiac paths would be better paved than those I've traveled in my mission for good mental-health information. Because, let's face it, most doctors don't understand mood disorders, and many stare at me as though I am speaking about my imaginary little friend when I mention that I am on a mood stabilizer and two antidepressants. "Oh ... I see," they say, waiting for me to add some other nugget of odd information, like I love to picnic at nude beaches and offer peanut-butter and jelly sandwiches to the masses.
So down the yellow brick road I go in a quest for courage. Lots of courage.... to camp out in endocrinology offices all over the world until I get my BLOODY records; to ask the necessary but unpopular questions ("If I don't want to have surgery down the road, what can I do now to help prevent that?"); and to seek the opinions of the foremost specialists (Johns Hopkins ... the Land of Oz) in a given field, i.e. cardiology and endocrinology.
A Beyond Blue reader recently shared with me this quote from Mary Anne Radmacher: "Courage doesn't always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, 'I will try again tomorrow.'" Maybe, just maybe, she was talking about securing her medical chart.
Nausea, headaches, lower-back pain, and other chronic illnesses are proven by medical studies to be alleviated by acupuncture. Devotees of acupuncture say that it can also help with everything from stress to weight loss, from infertility to blood pressure to breaking habits like smoking. Acupuncture is a kind of holistic medicine, meaning it treats the mind, body, and soul as one. Therefore, almost any condition can be aided by acupuncture.
The vocabulary of Chinese medicine is based on the metaphors used to describe the natural world. Throughout our bodies, we have systems of "meridians" that are mapped out via specific acupuncture points. These points are the powerful areas that stimulate various functions in the body. Acupuncture points each have names, including Hidden Valleys, Gushing Streams, Kunlun Mountains, and Source Receptacles. When you put a needle in a point, you stimulate the functions of that point. You either bring energy to that point or you remove energy from it.
If your insurance company covers acupuncture, you should check out their approved list of practitioners. However, if you're choosing one randomly, make sure that the acupuncturist is licensed by NCCAOM (National Certification Commission for Acupuncture and Oriental Medicine). They have lists you can reference by geographic area on their www.nccaom.org. You may also want to ask a friend for a recommendation.
Whatever your chief complaint is, bring that up. If an acupuncturist is knowledgeable in Western medicine, he or she might want to talk about the treatments you've already done, or discuss the medical options you have. The acupuncturist will also lay out how the Chinese medicine philosophy applies to that particular ailment. Then the acupuncturist should ask questions that help refine a diagnosis in terms of Chinese medicine. The basic questions are things like: "You have a headache; what makes it better, what makes it worse?", "Where is the pain located?", or "What is the nature of the pain?"
No, if the acupuncturist is skilled, the needles really do not hurt. You feel something, a small sensation, but it's not like the type of needling that you experience when you give blood. Acupuncture needles are so thin, you can fit anywhere from five to ten of them inside the hollow of a hypodermic needle.
Typically, the total time is 75-90 minutes for the initial appointment, and an hour for appointments after that. In a typical session, my patients change into a gown. Then I take a detailed look at their tongue and take their pulse. I list any diet and lifestyle recommendations that are pertinent, discuss with them the treatment options and recommendations, and set their plan. It takes about 10 minutes for the needles to find their points, and then the needles are left in place for 20 to 30 minutes in most cases. I will often check in at least once with the patient during this resting time. After I remove the needles, I leave to allow the patient to gather themselves and get dressed. Then I answer any final questions and explain any interesting things that they experienced.
Chinese medicine is called a Medicine of Systematic Correspondences. Every organ has a flavor, a color, an emotion, a time of day, a time of year, and a body fluid that's associated with it. When you draw this web, it's an extraordinarily complicated mesh of interconnections. In the concept of systematic correspondences, the ear, for example, has related points that cover the whole body. The nose has a micro-system. The hands and the feet all have micro-systems. The elbow joint corresponds to the knee joint. So, if you have a very active painful condition in your elbow, a first-time treatment might actually not needle the elbow directly because it might be too inflamed. An acupuncturist might choose the opposite elbow or the opposite knee as a corresponding point to open up that particular type of energy in the body. Sometimes if a person has low abdominal pain, you can needle on the chest and close to the neck, which can be really helpful.
It depends. Some people are wonderful responders. They respond quickly, immediately, and completely. For some people, after one or two treatments the person is 90-100 percent better. Most people are more in the middle. Depending on their condition, the intensity, how deep the problem is in their system, and how long they've had it, they have different responses. I give them a treatment, and they feel a little bit better. I add another treatment, and they feel a little bit better. Usually it takes two or three sessions to figure out their degree of response, but once I have that, I can usually chart a pretty clear line of expectation for when they will feel better.
It depends on the condition. When patients first comes in, they might come once a week or once every two weeks. Say they have a back pain, and they've had it for while. They might come once every one or two weeks for a number of sessions until they're stabilized and feel considerably better. After that they might come in for maintenance on a periodic basis. But if their back is feeling a bit achy and they're feeling like it's going to go out again, they might come in for a couple of "tune-up" sessions.
Acupuncture is a medical system, not a magic bullet. It can make a person feel well, but if he or she keeps eating McDonald's three times a day, those problems or illnesses will persist or come back. Acupuncture is about whole-body health, and people have to be willing to make other changes in their lives in order to be healthy.
Postingan
