I hate taking pills or any other alleged medication for that matter.  So when I got really sick this past summer, I traipsed off to see an acupuncturist.  He came highly recommended and I’m a sucker for recommendations.  Come to find out, he’s this generic white guy from Idaho.  Uh, not exactly the mental image of western medicine I had pictured in my head.  I envisioned getting my face filled with teeny-tiny needles in the back of some shady Korean diner – well, so much for that. 

My doctor had me fill out a lengthy 30-page (!!!) questionnaire detailing my medical history.  Odd questions too … like had I ever been bitten by the tsetse fly.  Approximately eight seconds after the doctor started his exam, he noticed something.  He announced quite loudly — as if I were hard of hearing — “You fractured your ankle!  Why did you NOT disclose that on your questionnaire??!!”  To be honest … I had completely forgotten about it.  It happened when I was nine years old.  I didn’t know my ankle could make or break (pun intended) my appointment.

As he was giving me the once-over, he paused slightly at my face … flicking it and waving his hands over it in rapid succession.  Louder, he said, “WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?!”   I blanked.  I blinked.  I blanked some more.  Then blinked some more.  He asked again, “SOMETHING IS GOING ON HERE WITH YOUR FACE … I NEED TO KNOW WHAT IT IS!”  By this point, I’m in a panic.  Was I wearing too much rouge?  Not enough?  What was he getting at?  

And then he said the words any human hates to hear:  “YOUR FACE IS DEAD TO ME!”

My bad.  Seems I may have accidentally on-purpose forgot to mention some recent Botox injections.  He was livid.  My first appointment with my acupuncturist almost became my last.  But now we have a delightful understanding … I won’t lie about any medical ailment or condition … and he won’t yell at me.  Mercifully, I’ve never had an STD.  I would HATE to try and disprove THAT one. 

But my acupuncturist works wonders and he’s a faith healer to boot.  My friends call him the witch doctor … but I know he’s made me feel a lot better – spiritually AND physically.  He even diagnosed me with a serious ailment before I had even made it to my family physician.  So here’s to you, Dr. Trites – and your little magic wand-thingy that you wave over me.  I was a naysayer, but now I’m completely sold.  You can buff my aura anytime – at $185 a pop.