Blue and Bruised • 11.07.09
After seeing an impressive presentation on acupuncture during our honeymoon, we were excited to come back to the city and find some quality treatments. Tidbits of research and testimonials had acupuncture curing everything from cramps to cancer. Then after witnessing the extent of my husband’s (rare) but severe migraine and hearing acupuncture was particularly effective against it, I booked an appointment at the Pacific College of Oriental Medicine. From the glowing reviews on yelp and figuring we’d only go for basic treatments I didn’t see much of a risk.
I had a very good experience. My therapist (Anna) was not only an acupuncturist she was also a yoga teacher, it couldn’t get much more serendipitous. She and her assistant seemed warm and welcoming, and happily answered all my questions and put me at ease. Over time we developed a friendly relationship wherein I looked forward to seeing her every week. My treatments seemed to be working, my husband stopped complaining of the night-time teeth grind, and despite the volatile market place I was feeling more balanced.
My husband on the other hand couldn’t have had a more different experience. His therapist wasn’t very communicative or informative of the treatments, and whereas I was sleeping peacefully in a private room he was shuffled between communal areas and private rooms. One evening he looked particularly disturbed, and I discovered it was because his therapist (without warning or asking) punctured him through his (non-sanitized) t-shirt. My eyes widened in you-could-be-infected horror. We reported the incident to the director of the program, was assured that this was common practice though the therapist should have warned him (or asked), and the next session they’d ensure he’d get a more experienced practitioner who would not be so cavalier about hygiene.
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