Medical Acupuncture Delivers Peace for Patients, Offers Food for the Soul to Physicians
— Michael Freedman, MD, FAAMA, AAMA Vice President
One estimate is that there are between 1,000 and 3,000 medical acupuncturists in the United States, not all of whom are actively practicing. There are one million physicians (MDs/DOs). Phrased another way, there are as many as 999,000 physicians who have little or no appreciation of the power of a simple acupuncture treatment offered at the right time.
My personal mission is to push the notion that every physician, regardless of specialty or practice setting, should have the rudimentary tools/skills to offer at least a simple treatment at every encounter. Done with the mindset that the person on the dull end of the needle is actually getting the most benefit from the treatment, all sorts of needless pain can be treated. This in no way negates the value and benefits from a practice dedicated to only practicing medical acupuncture. It does, however, provide food for the soul to offer and provide pain relief with no anticipation of any gain for the physician other than experiencing the pure thrill of watching a patient go from a state of misery to peace.
Dan came in to see me today. We ‘ve known each other for a little more than two years. He has slowly worsening Parkinson’s, a painful right shoulder and low-back pain. He is getting worse. I tweak his medications as needed and try and keep him comfortable with acupuncture so he can stay active … the longer you’re active, the longer you can live with Parkinson’s.
Dan got out of boot camp at 17 as a boatswain’s mate and was assigned to a refitted cruiser that was originally diesel and got a nuclear engine. It was named the Cabrera, which Dan said was Australian for “Can Do.” He remembers hitting the deck and drilling every day. He laughs remembering his first day. His chief sent him to the supply locker to ask for a skyhook. Dan had grown up in North Carolina between Morehead City and New Bern, and they were now cruising on the Atlantic seaboard. In high school he had read about Christopher Columbus writing that he knew he was near land when he saw seaweed. Dan got excited thinking he might be able to jump ship and swim home. He asked an officer how far from land they were and was a bit disheartened that they were 600 miles from shore, not the few miles that he was imagining. He tried to orient himself every morning and night by looking at where the sun came up and where it went down. It took a while for him to work out why it was always rising and setting off the starboard bow.
One day Dan had the worst fear he had ever felt in his life. While moving a 40-pound bag of powder for a 5-inch gun, the Captain came on the overhead and called for General Quarters, as was the morning routine. This time however it was followed by the words, “This is not a drill; this is not a drill.” Dan spent the next several weeks as part of a blockade of Cuba during the Cuban Missile Crisis. He said he was petrified the whole time.
Dan asked if I knew about ship life and the bunks spaced 18 inches apart. He said you could tell how long you had been on ship and what your seniority was by the first thing you saw every morning. He started with the feet and ankles of the guy across from him, then it became knees, then “private parts.” Dan sighed and said, “I never did make it to the chest.” He smiled and said that the Navy was the best experience of his life.
Dan stopped talking and was getting up to leave. He brushed something off his black overalls and told me that the Navy was big on cleanliness and hygiene. “But you know,” he said, “paint was clean dirt. It was OK to be covered in paint, not grease or dirt. Paint was OK.” He then thanked me for taking care of him, rotated his shoulder a few times without feeling pain and, as always, asked about all my children and grandchildren. I told him they all were just fine, while I was thinking of all the grandchildren totally covered in clean dirt.
