Accidental Acupuncture

So I had intended to share my experiences in chronological order from the beginning, which would have been much easier if I was on the ball instead of trying to back track after the fact. But I’m leaving that idea behind because this is newsworthy, so I feel compelled to post NOW. I will fill in the blanks later.

Emily and I purchased a package of ten massages about three weeks ago. Tonight we scheduled our third massage, as has become our weekend ritual. My masseuse (I wish I knew her name because she is awesome) tells Emily what’s wrong with me and then Emily attempts to translate the paragraphs of Cantonese into about two or three sentences of English to me: “Apparently there is something wrong with your right side…. Or maybe it’s your left? I can’t really understand.” Now, convinced that there is something terribly wrong with my right side (or possibly left) I’m concerned with getting it fixed. Tonight we were offered a supplement to our prepaid massage. At first it was explained to Emily, but all that was understood was “equipment” (maybe). Visuals were then brought in to aid in our understanding. Em got the first look and mumbled a quick “eeek, too scary”. I, on the other hand agreed after a small glance. To what? I wasn’t quite sure. I did know that it might help cure my right (or left) side, and that it would cost a mere 48 RMB (about $9 CDN).

Tonight I learned the word for pain in Cantonese. The initial burning/ ripping of skin sensation caused by the suction cups eventually gives way to a feeling that I can’t really describe. It’s not painful, but it doesn’t feel nice either. I think I started coaxing my body into believing that it didn’t hurt, and that this discomfort was a means to an end: the healing of my right (or left) side. At one point, curiosity took over, and I carefully turned my head to see what Emily’s suction cups looked like. What I saw made my stomach turn a little, but I was careful to hide my reaction knowing that if she knew what her back looked like she would freak out. Thinking about it now, I don’t know how I didn’t freak out. The cups vary in size with the smallest being about 2 inches in diameter and about 3 inches high. Strategically placed around the entire back, each glass cup was filled with a balloon of reddened skin. It was then I knew that this moment needed to be captured in a photo.


WARNING: This photo is not for the faint of heart or the weak of stomach.

One hour later, the red welts already begin to turn into bruises.

After a little googling, we now know that we innocently stumbled our way into an acupuncture cupping session. I like finding these little experiences unexpectedly. It reminds me that I am actually living in China. I walked in for a massage and I left with a giant, detoxifying, and (hopefully) temporary tattoo.