Going For Acupuncture

In between surgeries on the cervical portion of my spine, to which there have been three now, I went to an Acupuncturist in San Antonio hoping to get relief. Kenny had been to him several times and it hadn’t killed him, so I figured I was as tough as he is.

I’m not sure if this feller was Chinese or Korean or something else from that part of the world. His name is Hou Chi Dung. As side note, he has a son that is in practice with him. The son goes by the name Dunn. Maybe a pretty good move.

Dung’s clinic is over in the Medical District of west San Antonio. I went there twice. I imagined that the first procedure did something so I went back for seconds a month or so later.

You go into this place and Dung would come in and ask what the symptoms were and in my case laid me out on a table and started sticking needles all over my back. I think about two dozen of them. It didn’t hurt to bad. After he finished he left the room and I’d never see him again on either visit. It was a very busy place.

After a little while, maybe 30 minutes, this little oriental lady, which I was told was Mrs. Dung would come in and remove the needles. Then each time I paid and left.

On the last trip I was headed back home to Bertram, but something felt different. It was a stabbing pain up in the middle of my back in the upper shoulder area. I finally pulled over when I’d cleared out of San Antonio. I reached back and right where the pain was, there was one of the needles that she had overlooked. I jerked that thing out of my back.

I stuck the needle into the headliner of my truck up by the sun visor. That was my constant reminder to stay away from acupuncturist. That reminder worked pretty well, even though the needle is long gone. I haven’t gone back.

I wouldn’t want my story to dissuade anyone from going for acupuncture. I’m probably the only person they left a needle in.

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