men made mistakes.
“Did you seek further medical advice?”
“When biofeedback didn’t work, two weeks later, at the end of last September, I found Dr. Wu. His offices were close to Lindberg’s, and I had seen his advertisements in the local newspaper. By then nothing I did could keep my hands warm. So freezing and painful—it was like I spent my time soaking them in the ocean out there.” Ginny tilted her head west.
“Dr. Wu is an acupuncturist?”
“On Cass Street in Monterey, just like Dr. Lindberg.”
“Did Dr. Lindberg give you Dr. Wu’s name? Did he recommend him specifically?”
“No.”
Too bad, Remy thought, but she underlined Lindberg’s advice, knowing it might present some opportunities. “But you say he told you, ‘Sure. It can’t hurt.’”
“That’s right. That’s what he said. I believed him.”
“Did you check Dr. Wu’s credentials as carefully as you did Lindberg’s?”
“No, but he had a license number printed on his cards, and an extravagant office.”
“Go on.”
“I went in there on a Thursday. September twenty-eighth, last year,” Ginny said, consulting a daybook she pulled out of a pocket. “His receptionist was out to lunch, or else he didn’t have one because there was no one else in the office. That made me nervous. Are doctors allowed to treat women without nurses present?” Ginny didn’t wait for Remy to reply. “Are they even doctors?”
Ginny described the day vividly. She had been asked to lie down on a table. Dr. Wu, efficient, smooth, professional, pulled out a set of long, thin needles.
Ginny had felt scared. She also felt committed, like a person getting a tattoo. She told Remy that she had decided on this course and couldn’t see any easy way out that wouldn’t humiliate both of them.
Dr. Wu, a small Chinese man, squeezed her hand, enough to make her cry out. He apologized but was encouraging, saying, “I can help you.” Then he inserted a needle into each of her fingers.She experienced excruciating pain almost immediately. However, warmth flooded into her hands, the first warmth she had experienced in a long time. The color of her fingertips began to change from pale to pink.
“My God, this hurts!” Ginny had cried.
“Very natural,” Dr. Wu had said. “Please understand, healing takes courage.”
“He hurt you badly?” Remy asked after a moment.
“A lot, not a little.”
“What else did he say?”
“He said he had stimulated a meridian flowing through my fingertips which would benefit my entire system. He told me how acupuncture was an ancient healing art, more than two thousand years old, based on the idea that our bodies have a system of channels—meridians. These kind of steal energy from one part of the body to propel another. He showed me ancient charts that outlined which channel affects a given part of the body. His theory was that an obstruction in energy flow produces physical and emotional issues. The needles unblock the obstruction, restoring health.”
“Hmm.”
Ginny shook her head. “I must have been demented to believe such horseshit.”
“Many people claim healing effects due to acupuncture. How long did he leave the needles in?”
“He bandaged my hands—with needles in place—and told me to call the next day. He said it was a severe case and it wouldn’t do any good to leave them in for a half hour or something.” She stopped talking and her right hand crept over to guard her left arm.
“Did you call him the next day?”
“I got an answering service saying he would be out of the state at a conference in New Mexico until Tuesday.” Ginny paused. Her eyes darkened. “That was the worst four days of my life.”
“You continued to experience pain?”
“Shooting pains that went all the way up my left arm. I was walking the floor all night. I was afraid to rip the needles out. He had said not to touch them. When I couldn’t get through to Dr. Wu,I tried Dr. Lindberg. He was also out of
“Did you seek further medical advice?”
“When biofeedback didn’t work, two weeks later, at the end of last September, I found Dr. Wu. His offices were close to Lindberg’s, and I had seen his advertisements in the local newspaper. By then nothing I did could keep my hands warm. So freezing and painful—it was like I spent my time soaking them in the ocean out there.” Ginny tilted her head west.
“Dr. Wu is an acupuncturist?”
“On Cass Street in Monterey, just like Dr. Lindberg.”
“Did Dr. Lindberg give you Dr. Wu’s name? Did he recommend him specifically?”
“No.”
Too bad, Remy thought, but she underlined Lindberg’s advice, knowing it might present some opportunities. “But you say he told you, ‘Sure. It can’t hurt.’”
“That’s right. That’s what he said. I believed him.”
“Did you check Dr. Wu’s credentials as carefully as you did Lindberg’s?”
“No, but he had a license number printed on his cards, and an extravagant office.”
“Go on.”
“I went in there on a Thursday. September twenty-eighth, last year,” Ginny said, consulting a daybook she pulled out of a pocket. “His receptionist was out to lunch, or else he didn’t have one because there was no one else in the office. That made me nervous. Are doctors allowed to treat women without nurses present?” Ginny didn’t wait for Remy to reply. “Are they even doctors?”
Ginny described the day vividly. She had been asked to lie down on a table. Dr. Wu, efficient, smooth, professional, pulled out a set of long, thin needles.
Ginny had felt scared. She also felt committed, like a person getting a tattoo. She told Remy that she had decided on this course and couldn’t see any easy way out that wouldn’t humiliate both of them.
Dr. Wu, a small Chinese man, squeezed her hand, enough to make her cry out. He apologized but was encouraging, saying, “I can help you.” Then he inserted a needle into each of her fingers.She experienced excruciating pain almost immediately. However, warmth flooded into her hands, the first warmth she had experienced in a long time. The color of her fingertips began to change from pale to pink.
“My God, this hurts!” Ginny had cried.
“Very natural,” Dr. Wu had said. “Please understand, healing takes courage.”
“He hurt you badly?” Remy asked after a moment.
“A lot, not a little.”
“What else did he say?”
“He said he had stimulated a meridian flowing through my fingertips which would benefit my entire system. He told me how acupuncture was an ancient healing art, more than two thousand years old, based on the idea that our bodies have a system of channels—meridians. These kind of steal energy from one part of the body to propel another. He showed me ancient charts that outlined which channel affects a given part of the body. His theory was that an obstruction in energy flow produces physical and emotional issues. The needles unblock the obstruction, restoring health.”
“Hmm.”
Ginny shook her head. “I must have been demented to believe such horseshit.”
“Many people claim healing effects due to acupuncture. How long did he leave the needles in?”
“He bandaged my hands—with needles in place—and told me to call the next day. He said it was a severe case and it wouldn’t do any good to leave them in for a half hour or something.” She stopped talking and her right hand crept over to guard her left arm.
“Did you call him the next day?”
“I got an answering service saying he would be out of the state at a conference in New Mexico until Tuesday.” Ginny paused. Her eyes darkened. “That was the worst four days of my life.”
“You continued to experience pain?”
“Shooting pains that went all the way up my left arm. I was walking the floor all night. I was afraid to rip the needles out. He had said not to touch them. When I couldn’t get through to Dr. Wu,I tried Dr. Lindberg. He was also out of
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