Think about a time when you played with magnets, and you pressed two together and tried to prevent them from connecting. It was difficult, wasn’t it? If you consider why that was, you know that a magnetic force was attracting the two, drawing them together. Similarly, if you held two magnets of the same polarity close to each other, it would be mightily difficult to connect them. Again, the force that prevented the connection is invisible, yet you would be able to feel it just as realistically as if it were alive.
So, there’s no craziness or made-up science involved in the argument that I make when I say powerful invisible forces surround us that influence substantially. This principle has had a powerful influence on me over the last fortnight.
Alternative Treatments have been my theme since I quit physical therapy and tried to address my pain differently several weeks ago. For two weeks, I’ve been to visit a fascinating practitioner, Eve Soldinger, who does acupuncture and something called Medical Qi Gong; I’ll let you look it up for the explanation, but briefly, Medical Qi Gong is a branch of Chinese Medicine.
Medical Qi Gong is one of the five branches of Chinese Medicine (acupuncture, herbal medicine, meditation, and nutritional advice). The idea behind it is to redistribute the Qi, or vitality, of a person. Some people call it “energy work.” It seemed a bit like having a Reiki treatment, only substantially more significant somehow. Chinese Medicine is used by one-third of the world; while it may seem strange to those of us who find it unfamiliar, it is status quo in a large part of the world.
MQG is like acupuncture without the needles or the pressure of acupressure. If this sounds too “goofy,” think back to the concept of he magnets. Eve is realigning the energy of my body, and it is dramatically effective.
The great Dr. A., my therapist, referred me to the practitioner, Eve Soldinger, who is also his acupuncturist. When I left my physical therapist to begin this treatment, he wisely was concerned about the wisdom of poking holes in my thin skin with its autoimmune disorder tendencies–the whole thing just seemed wrong. I wasn’t sure how to explain that to Eve when I called. Surprisingly, she had figured these complexities out before I had said two words. She suggested that Medical Qi Gong would be a better approach for me than acupuncture, and was well aware of that because she treats three people with my disease. That’s unusual, since customarily I have to spell E-H-L-E-R-S D-A-N-L-O-S for healthcare practitioners, and often give a minicourse on VEDS basics. But Eve really knew about how to approach the pain problems of my disease.
That first day I went to see Eve was a particularly bad day for me. My shoulders were knotted, and my legs hurt, hips down to the balls of my feet. Yet, I found out it’s hard to have a bad day in Eve’s office. Even the elevator is charming. The building is on 18th St., backing up to Washington, D.C.’s Dupont Circle, one of my favorite neighborhoods. I never get to go downtown anymore now that walking is so hard, so just being there made me happy. It seems like no one has ever updated the building’s amenities, as though it has been frozen in time. So, the ceilings are low, and the hallways are narrow and dark. I looked warily at the stairs ahead of me thinking, “Uh-oh! The third floor is a long way up!” But when I walked ahead, I saw the most charming elevator, probably haven’t seen another one like it since I was tiny, little girl, when I was little in Argentina in the late 1960s. And even then it was an antique.
On this elevator, a note lists instructions on using it because, obviously, no one knows how to use manual, gated of elevators anymore. “Hold the button down to send for the elevator,” it says. When the elevator gets there, I have to use every bit of my force to pull back a gate and at the same time the elevator door with all my might. Then, because the door is on a hard spring that will snap it shut, I have to use the weight of my body to force the door open to jump quickly into the elevator car before it snaps shut again. Next, I push the button for the third floor. That final step, at least, is automated. I expect there to be an elevator operator wearing a double-breasted, gold-buttoned jacket and a charming little round cap. There probably was one, not very long ago.
When I got upstairs to Eve’s office, the lights were dim, and it smelled good. The air seemed calm and peaceful. The furniture, the whole place felt comfortable, as though I no longer needed to rush, or try to act or appear any certain way. Even better, Eve was comfortable, and comforting. She and I spent about an hour talking before the therapy began. She is the kind of person who I would just like to have coffee with, or who I would invite to a party. She’s just a great deal of fun to talk with, extremely engaging, but in a refreshingly intense way, not superficial. The only difficulty I had was settling down into the therapy part, which involves sort of breaking character from the “We’re friends hanging out” person to the patient.
Having said that, when Eve turns into the therapist, the air changes in the room to a deep intensity (think magnets!). One can feel the keenness of her intuition and attentiveness. Frankly, I am not sure what she did this first time because I kept my eyes closed, but I do know that she is a well-decorated and certified practitioner of Chinese Medicine.
I’m going to skip ahead because she did a bunch of stuff that I can’t explain. I had my eyes squinted shut (it sounds stupid, I know, but I was afraid to look!). I knew her arms were moving, but I don’t know what she did, only that I felt better–but she never touched me. Amazing!
At the end, though, suddenly, when Eve stood above my left shoulder and put her hand there, my shoulder completely relaxed, whereas the shoulder and every muscle connected to it and my neck had been in knots before. I could hardly wait for her to walk to the other side of my body and repeat whatever it was that she had done. Curiously, it was the front of the shoulder, the very point where Mike, my great physical therapist used to work on a lot. I was confounded. How would she know where he worked….and why would they work on the same spot? I asked Eve what drew her to that spot, and she replied that it was a lung meridian. Hmmm. Mike would have said that he had located a trigger point and he was addressing myofascial pain referred up toward the shoulder. Both had the same result, but Eve’s was more peaceful. “Just get over to the right side as fast as you can,” I thought. The release of that awful pain is exquisite.
Whatever this method is, I’m not sure, but it works, I kept saying to myself. When I left the building, after delighting again in the lovely elevator, I almost fell out the front door; the step out is about ten inches down with no warning. That was a nasty surprise to my atrophied leg muscles. That struck my skeleton–my shoulders out of line again–and just like so many rubber bands snapping shut, I felt dozens of muscles wind up into their miserable trigger points for that terrible warning sensation of pain. When I tried to tell them to quiet down, that this was mind over matter, and there was nothing to worry about, they laughed at me, snapping like sling-shots
While I was still exhilarated about meeting Eve and looking forward to our appointment the following Tuesday, I didn’t have much time to relish in the feeling because over night I got slammed with the worst migraine I have had in recent memory. It felt like someone had put a large iron pot over my head and beat it with a crowbar.
None of the ordinary tricks I use to I take away headaches worked. Usually I go sit on my PEMF Device for about 45 min. That can wipe out the headache pretty well. It works very, very well if I take two Vicodin before I do that. Ordinarily, even if it’s a very serious headache, that persists those steps, I force myself to get up and out, if I have previously scheduled doctor appointments, even though I may be spacey or not feel well. However, this headache was the kind that made me sick to my stomach. I could not lift my head from the pillow without the room spinning around. All I could do was to lie in my bed and hold the pillow close over my head, alternating heat and ice for a good part of the day.
I don’t know whether it had to do with Medical Qi Gong or having consumed a food allergen by mistake, or just walking in the city and stumbling. It’s not easy being a bronze Goddess.
So, now it’s a week later, and I have a different perspective. Eve performed nothing short of a pain healing miracle during the second visit. I’ll write about that treatment next time. Stay tuned!
Ever heard of Medical Qi Gong? What’s your take on these alternative treatments? Have you tried them? What’s more, does your insurance pay for them? Mine does not. I’m thinking that it’s worth it. I can sustain it for a few months, at least.