Picture the scene:
Yes, it’s a Tuesday morning at an ungodly hour, and yes, you still have to go to work in an hour or so, but in the meantime, you are basking in relaxation.
The lights are dim, soft music plays in the background, and you are lounging on a massage table, all spa-like. A heating pad keeps your skin warm while you await your treatment, and soon, you hear the soft voice of your technician:
“Just relax and close your eyes”.
Any residual tension in your muscles escapes as you exhale deeply and close your eyes. This feels great.
“That’s good– now take a deep breath”.
You take a generous breath in and await the next wave of relaxation to envelop your senses.
“Great, now can you keep your eyes closed and look over to your right hand side? I’M JUST GOING TO STICK THIS NEEDLE INTO YOUR EYELID.”
This is how I ushered in my Tuesday morning: A little bit of light dimming, a little bit of Japanese flute listening; and a little bit of EYELID NEEDLING. Yikes!
Growing up in the dry, desert-like conditions of Calgary, I never experienced spring time allergies (or any seasonal allergies, for that matter– no, my plethora of allergies and sensitivities is limited mostly to dubious household ‘cleaners’ and synthetic perfumes…) Since moving to Victoria, however, I’ve been bombarded with extremely itchy eyes that start around the end of May and (hopefully) subside at the end of June. I have no idea what causes these allergies, given that there are about a kajillion plants and flowers in bloom right now, none of which has ever taken root in the dry Calgary soil. So enter my fabulous acupuncturist…
When I told her about my itchy eyes this morning, I was mostly just making conversation and not really expecting her to do anything about it, least of all to stick NEEDLES in my EYELIDS. (Had I known that this is how our morning appointment would turn out, I doubt I would have mentioned anything about my puffy eyelids and redder than red eyeballs. I probably would have talked about how the “muscles in my shoulders could really use a massage” instead…) However, since I am not usually a psychic, and since I didn’t really need to talk about my eyes because they SCREAMED for themselves, I ended up on the table with my eyes closed, looking to my right, and being very afraid that if my eyeballs veered left underneath my eyelids, they would be scraped or poked by an effin’ needle. I was scared.
Tell me to look to my right and I will. Tell me to look to my right so you can position the needle into the inner corner of my eyelid, my eyes will dart every which way BUT right. I can’t help it. Despite my squeaming, though, everything was OK. The thought of the (six! possibly even eight!) needles in my eyes was way worse than the actual needles in my eyes, and when I emerged from the appointment, eyeballs still in tact, my allergies has subsided. Noticeably so. Neat!
So would I recommend needles in the eyelids for all you springtime allergy sufferers? Perhaps… But I still have to say, had I known beforehand that I would be getting needles stuck into my most psychologically sensitive body part (my eyeballs! And early on a Tuesday morning, no less), I probably would have called in sick.