Test of Character

Test of Character

Sometimes you get what you need rather than what you want…

After a few months of enduring the frustration of a painful elbow, my friend Bernard suggested that I visit his acupuncturist, Marianne. Bernard advised me that Marianne was Dutch with a strong and unusual character and that she was responsible for successfully treating his hip problems.

I was all prepared for my first consultation appointment. I had the address and postcode. I had discussed the location and how to get to it with my friend. I had ‘driven’ there on Google street view. I had zoomed in on the little cottage, verified the pixelated brass number 68 on the door and was confident that it was the sort of place that a Dutch lady would run her practise from.

I arrived in the dark with a mere five minutes to spare (I would have preferred eight minutes), and knocked confidently yet politely on the door. As I was waiting, I took in my surroundings, none of which, from my previous research, surprised me. Nothing that is apart from the letter ‘A’ after the number 68. 68A! A!!

I frantically looked around and there suddenly appeared another building. There, set back and at an oblique angle to the road, a large white building emanating soft light from its windows. A building with a large number 68 on it and a sign clearly spelling out the word ‘Clinic’. A building hidden from the prying lens of the great Google.

So there I was, a nervous fool standing outside number 68A in the dark having just boldly (yet politely) disturbed its occupants. I would have to wait and explain myself. I would have to justify my mistake – “I’m sure this happens to you all the time” I would say whilst pointing a shaking finger at my true and glaringly obvious destination. They might be reasonable about it, laugh it off and wish me well – but I doubted it. They would more likely be incensed; furious with me for being such an idiotic intrusion into their lives, and who could blame them?

After hopping about outside number 68A for longer than seemed necessary for such a small abode, I came to the conclusion that my knocking had been more polite than it was bold and that I had not been heard at all. With only three minutes left to my appointment, I sloped off to the clinic, looking over my shoulder at number 68A until I was safely inside number 68.

I was warmly greeted by Marianne who then questioned me about my condition. I told her about my elbow and thought I’d mention my long-standing neck pain as well. She continued to question me as she drew circles on a diagram of the human body and made copious notes. She asked if I’d had any previous experience of acupuncture and I told her that I had, a very unpleasant one involving becoming very pale, sweating profusely with the sensation of the room turning black accompanied by the sound of muffled voices.

She assured me that she would be gentle and invited me to lie on the therapy couch.

As I lay there stiffly she said “There! I’ve got you lying down and I’ve taken all your power away from you.”

I thought this was a most curious thing to say to someone who was already visibly in a state of high anxiety in a strange environment.

“Yes” I said “I’m in a vulnerable position aren’t I?” trying to demonstrate understanding and to show that I was comfortable with this unusual dialogue.

“You are.” She replied “But I’m going to raise the bed, like this… and then sit on this little chair next to you. See, I’m lower down than you now. I’ve given you some of your power back.”

I was just starting to have a horrible feeling that I’d given the completely wrong impression of myself when she deftly stabbed me in the forehead. I tried to look at her with alarm but could only see the top of her head and a wobbling needle protruding from my forehead. “That’s to calm you down.” she said and I instantly felt better about it all as she continued to insert needles, burn mugwort and chat about chickens and stained glass.

For my second appointment last week, she said that she wanted to work on my neck and so I would have to lie face down. “Would that be alright?” she said “You’ll be even more vulnerable.” I wondered why she persisted with this vulnerability theme and assured her that it was absolutely fine.

She covered the therapy bed with blue tissue towel and made a narrow slot in it over the hole in the head rest and said “Lie down and put your face through here.”

As I lay there, with one eye obscured by blue tissue, she said “Any practitioner of Chinese medicine could tell that you would have tendon, muscle and joint problems.”

“Really? Why is that?” I asked.

“Just by certain aspects of your character.” She replied.

I expected her to elaborate on this, but she quietly continued with the treatment.

I couldn’t wait any longer and asked “What do you mean by certain aspects of my character?”

“Oh, you’re a wood personality. You’re sinewy and slim. I’m more water, more flabby. Also, you wear green – but I’ll forgive you for that. You’re a liver, spleen girl. That’s why you have these problems.”

I thought about the meaning of all this as the blue tissue sucked against my right nostril. It still made no sense. Trying not to sound irritated, I decided to seek further clarification by asking “Um, so what sort of character is a liver spleen type of girl?”

“Well,” she said “Imagine a colonel in the army with a stick tucked under his arm saying ‘one-two-one-two-one-two’. You like everything to be just so and you like to plan things. You like everyone to fall into step with you. But! You are also very timid. So, if they don’t follow you or if things don’t go to plan you get frustrated and tense instead of speaking out. Your muscles and tendons are put under strain.”

Well, I did ask I suppose.

We finished the treatment and booked another appointment for the New Year. I glumly put on my green coat and headed for the door. Marianne called me back and hugged me, wishing me a happy Christmas.

I scuttled past number 68A and drove home, deep in thought. Not happy, not sad, not confident, not fearful – just neutral, balanced, calm.

 

“The depth and strength of a human character are defined by its moral reserves. People reveal themselves completely only when they are thrown out of the customary conditions of their life, for only then do they have to fall back on their reserves.” ~Leon Trotsky~