I've decided that the first year of grad school has been about learning how to be a grad student. I made a few mistakes along the way, but with the last quarter of the year approaching midterms, I've finally learned some valuable Elyn lessons:

1. I'm 46 years old. I've had some shiny moments that I'm quite proud of. If you want me to write a short story, novel, technical document, or film script, I can pound out a pretty decent first draft, and I can teach you how to do it, too. Being a beginner at something has been very hard. Ego, take a bow.

2. Being past child bearing age implies that I don't have to keep up with those who are half my age. In the beginning I couldn't understand where my classmates found the energy to be in the accelerated classes, work, party, date, and still do well on quizzes and exams. Then, with no small amount of horror, I realized that I was old enough to have given birth to most of my fellow students. Sobering.

3. With age comes confidence (or exhaustion from sludging through a lifetime of BS). There were some difficult social situations that I quickly and firmly extracted myself from. At a younger age, I would have taken a lead role in the soap opera just because I was raised to be co-dependent that way. Thank the Gods for therapy and time.


4. Relationships. I was told repeatedly that most romantic relationships do not survive grad school. In anticipation of this, the man I was with when I applied for school broke up with me. The next guy who came along couldn't hang either.

Grad school demands that you give it your complete focus. There is no energy for doing all the work that needs to be done in a loving, mature relationship. I've come to doubt whether I'll get involved with anyone seriously until after I graduate.

If I do, it's going to have to be someone who either has done what I'm doing and doesn't mind being a doormat, or was born that way (see co-dependent issue above).

In the mean time, I'm re-evaluating my, ah, position on never engaging in the casual hook up...



5. Perhaps the most difficult lesson to learn is how to actually learn. The truth is I'm an artist/intuitive/empath/clairvoyant. Linear thinking is something I can do, but not for sustained amounts of time.

I believed that because I was going into medicine, I had to turn off my intuition and only use the left side of my brain. I tried paying attention with just my thinking brain and memorize everything by rote. Despite hours and hours of studying, I didn't do so well on exams. It made me miserable.

My therapist (I highly recommend having one if you're going to med school--he or she can talk you out of it if nothing else.) convinced me to do what I do best. Today was my first time trying.

 
Instead of leaning forward in my seat and furiously taking notes trying to grok everything coming out of the professor's mouth, I sat back. I let my mind wander now and then. I took notes, doodled, enjoyed sun when it made its fickle appearance through the window.

Then it happened. The answers to the professor's questions came quickly and easily. I was letting my mind work in the strange way that it does--just absorbing information rather than chasing it down. 

In the last few weeks of my first year, I've finally remembered how to learn. Wonder what I'll learn next year...

Battle Weary

I'm a huge fan of Jeanne d'Arc. I like to believe that I get the whole hearing voices, charging into battle, betrayal by my king, and being burned at the stake by people with a history of bad cuisine.

Besides, she was really into fleur de lis'

I also have a bit of a loud mouthed warrior in me. Kind of a super-hero wannabe gene. I see or hear injustice and I just gotta go into a tussle. Over the years, I've learned to choose my battles. So, maybe I'm a little smarter and a little less headstrong. Maybe.

My battle of choice, now? Why defending Traditional Chinese Medicine to another race of people with a history of bad cuisine (okay, I'm thinking McDonald's here).

Yesterday, I read a blog entry in the Huffpost: Alternative and Complementary Treatments for Cancer

In the article, Dr. Nowinski talks about the shifting landscape of grief--specifically the kind of grief you experience when you or a loved one is diagnosed with terminal cancer. He said that the word, "terminal" has taken on a new meaning as more and more people who receive this diagnosis may live for months, years, or even decades longer than earlier generations who had similar cancer diagnoses.

Dr. Nowinski, a clinical psychologist, touted acupuncture and gave links to studies supporting the efficacy of using acupuncture during chemotherapy treatments.

Since reading the article, I've been commenting like crazy trying to dispute, convince, and soothe the naysayers. In other words I've been going round with ignorant fools who can't bother to read a study before slamming acupuncture.

Today, I went back to the comments section of the article. I provided links for a few more CAM deniers. I tried to rally, get steamed up, pick up the sword, but then, you know, I just felt overwhelmed against the great tide of ignorance. I got tired. 

I know that my journey as an acupuncture student and later when I'm a licensed acupuncturist will have to include heavy doses of education and patience. Sometimes though, I just wish I had a tougher suit of armor...

Is there a treatment for thin skin besides age and experience? Let me know...

A Rambling Post

It's been almost three months since I last blogged. It's hard to believe that much time has gone by.

The last few weeks of my first quarter ended with a bang. Literally. After taking my written points test, I totaled my 2000 Honda Civic. It was the car that I had bought after my car in New Orleans drowned. 

I put a lot of work and money into it the summer before school started so that it would last through my years as a poor graduate student.

When the airbags blew, the driver bag hit my right hand and sprained the ring finger, little finger, palm and wrist. It made taking the rest of my finals quite a challenge. It's still stiff and swells up painfully after lots of note taking. It does get better every week.

I went to New Orleans for break and basically collapsed while I was there. The bright Caribbean sun, floral scented air, live music, and amazing food revived me. I was so grateful to be back in my beloved city.

Room with a View

The View

Preservation Hall, Christmas Eve 2010

I returned rejuvenated and ready to take on my second quarter. I was guided to teach, for free, the Reiki I and II classes to my fellow students. It's gone amazingly well. Early in the month, on Saturday afternoon, we meet to exchange Reiki. The last Saturday of the month, I teach the Reiki class. This quarter I have 13 students. I already have 8 students signed up for next quarter.

It's such a joy to share this modality. I believe it will enhance everyone's ability to feel Qi and help them survive their next three to four years as grad students. With Reiki, you first learn to practice on yourself. Brilliant.

I bought a new car because my student loan debt just wasn't high enough. But it's cute and it goes, "Zoom-zoom!"

Kermit

The irony of going to medical school is that it's very stressful, yet the number one killer is stress. I read a great article in Wired magazine that those of us who choose stress (like going to grad school, or taking a promotion) have an advantage over those who have little or no control over the stress in their lives (low paying job with no power). That's not very comforting in the midst of test taking, I gotta say.

This week has been especially hard for me. Today is the 37th anniversary of my stepfather's death. "Hmmm," you might say, "aren't you over it already?"

What I know of death is that the pain never goes away, it only gets easier to live with. Most years the anniversary comes along and I'm just mildly grumpy. But every now and then, a hard one hits. Like this year.

I find that with the stress of being in school, of studying every single day, that there are some emotional events that grow to monsterous sizes. Other stresses that would normally bother me, don't because I simply don't have time to be upset when a test is looming.

This year, I very much miss my stepdad, Don. I feel raw, am having crying jags, and am just not into much of anything. I decided that I would skip class and have a mental health day. I don't get much time to myself or any time off. Today is it.

The sun has broken through the fog. I'm taking Kieran for a very long walk. See you all on the other side...

A New Intimacy

Because I used to be a stripper, I sometimes think I know a lot about intimacy. I became expert at cultivating the dance of longing, the tease without release. I can go on at length about how those who are frequent clientele and those of us who've worked in the sex industry have intimacy issues. The flirt is easier than the reality of being close to someone.

I also like to believe that I've learned from and perhaps worked through my own body politics, hang ups, and fetishes. I'm all about live and let live.

Every now and then during my days working the pole, I'd cultivate a regular or two who were doctors. They got a certain kick out of telling me the Latin names of the different body parts I was exposing, hiding, or contorting on the stage. I'd smile at their cleverness, while inside, I didn't really care how the muscles of my arms and hands worked to swing me around the pole. It was all, well, Latin.

Now that I'm learning all those Latin names myself, seeing how all the parts move and work together, discovering bones in my body that I never knew existed, I finally get it. We are miracles! Really, just the way the muscles all work together to flex and articulate our hands, how the metacarpals and phalanges all work together to help me type these words, is just amazing.

I'm palpating my classmates and myself to find bones, muscles, tendons, and nerves. The funny bone? It's not funny, and it's not a bone. It's the ulnar nerve.

I'm re-evaluating those former clients who thought they were seducing me with their big, clever doctor words. I'm thinking about the me I was then, just trying to earn some bucks to pay for my writing habit and an MFA in creative writing.

I had already put myself in a box, unable to understand their language of intimacy, their own discovery of the miracle that lies beneath our skin. Turns out it was kind of sexy after all.

Simply Shelly

It took awhile for me to get my groove back. My leg didn't really begin to feel better until around Sunday, but by then, I'd received some bad news.

About a year ago, I began seeing a new Reiki client. Her name was Shelly. We worked together for a few months before I made the move to Portland. After my move from Salem, I sent her distance Reiki. It became increasingly difficult to find out what was going on with her after my move.

It's hard to genuinely describe this complex, stubborn, and infectiously positive woman. Sometimes she made me crazy because I felt she needed to be more open to Western medicine in her healthcare. On the other hand, her constant positive attitude and belief in the beauty and mystery of life was deeply inspirational.

When I found out that she had passed, I discovered that underneath the sadness was the gnawing guilt that I hadn't done enough for Shelly. The last time I'd sent her a full distance Reiki treatment was two weeks before school started. Things didn't look good when I worked on her. (A side note, often when I do Reiki, whether in person or distance, I "see" things going on in the person's body or energy field). I e-mailed her. She didn't respond.

About a week into school, she e-mailed to request more distance Reiki. I continued to send it once in awhile, but I was too caught up in school to really send more than a little burst here and there. I had no idea she was getting so much worse.

Shelly passed away last week. I found out through Facebook. In one of those perfect coincidences, I was to be in Salem during her wake. I was there only long enough to talk to her brother, David. He was warm, wonderful, and seemed to intuit exactly what to say to make me feel better.

He let me know that my work with Shelly meant a lot to her--that she spoke highly of me. I told him that I wished I'd been with her at the end, to help ease her passage. He was very kind and told me that he sensed my work with her through out the year had helped her at the end. It was very comforting to hear and dissipated the gray cloud hanging over me.


I thought about how as an acupuncturist, I will probably lose patients now and then. I don't know if it gets easier, or if we learn how to let go and let God. I know this was Shelly's path, but it's still difficult for me not to argue with God, or with Shelly.

I think her spirit and her inspiration will be with me for the rest of my life. I hope that all I learned from her will help me be a better practitioner.

Right now in school, it's like we're just learning the alphabet as our teachers take us through point locations, muscles and bones, and organ systems. Later, we'll learn to write sentences, and eventually, before we graduate, I hope we'll know how to create a full story of what's going on our patients' bodies.

I've already seen glimpses of our teachers trying to prepare us for the emotional and spiritual aspects of healing. I sometimes fear that in this regard, I'll never know enough.

Losing My Religion

I've had a rough couple of days. I've written about the academic ups and downs of being an acupuncture student, but I haven't written about the personal ones.

To be honest, one of the reasons I was drawn to acupuncture was because of my frustration with Western medicine. I think that is probably the number one reason most people seek out CAM, or Complimentary and Alternative Medicine.

Strangely enough, my very first acupuncture appointment, about 11 years ago, was horrific. An ancient practitioner, who barely spoke English, cascaded my back with needles. He then attached little diodes so that minute electrical currents could run through the needles giving the Qi a little extra stimulation. It was so excruciatingly painful that I sobbed, loudly. The currents ran painful spasms all through my body. Despite my loud crying, no one came to the room or ever checked on me. I had never had acupuncture before so I had no idea that this was not within normal protocol.

When an attendant finally came to take out the needles, I asked if it was supposed to hurt that much. She seemed embarrassed and nodded silently. I limped from the room, my face red and swollen from crying. I never saw the practitioner again.

Later, still wanting to find relief from the chronic pain I had, I did more research about acupuncture, read some studies from the NIH, and got recommendations. I went to another acupuncturist, Dr. Kim. I told him about my first experience and he said he'd heard stories but promised to not use electro-acupuncture on me. It was a much more pleasant experience. It didn't alleviate my pain as much as I'd hoped, but Dr. Kim did tell me that there was something wrong with my nervous system and that I should get an MRI. That was the beginning of finally getting a diagnosis of multiple sclerosis.

Here I am, eleven years later, learning how to become an acupuncturist myself. I've had lots of negative experiences in Western medicine. And mostly, positive experiences with Naturopathy and Chinese medicine.

Most Westerners seem attracted to CAM modalities because Naturopathy and Chinese medicine treat the patient as a whole person, linking together all the symptoms into a whole treatment plan--not just looking at a single symptom as separate from all the others.

I'll be honest, I've put Chinese medicine on a pedestal. This past weekend, the pedestal got knocked out from under me. It was a tough lesson.

On Sunday, I went to a special clinic at the school for people with auto-immune illnesses. I was needled for the spasticity in my right leg. When I left the clinic, I felt great. As soon as I got home and tried to sit down, it felt as if a knife was tearing into my hip and outer thigh. It was excruciating. I called the clinic and went back in.

After all was said and done, I spent Sunday evening on the couch, alternately icing and heating my hip and leg. I took a double dose of my muscle relaxer and tried to study. Simmering under the fog of drugs and dull pain, my anger and disappointment grew.  It was hard to focus on the TCM theory book.

I was no longer sure that acupuncture was for me. Something had gone wrong during the treatment and now I was in a lot of pain. I wanted to believe that I was experiencing a healing crisis and that within a day or two, my leg would be in great shape.

On Monday, the sharp pain was gone and I was left with just a stiff, aching leg. Someone from the clinic called to check on me. It did not go well. I couldn't understand much of what she said because of background noise. What I did hear was, "you should have told us you were sensitive..."

I responded that it's in my notes that I'm sensitive and I mentioned it during the palpation part of the exam. I was in pain, I was angry, and probably worst of all, I was losing faith in this medicine that I've dedicated my life to.

To hear a practitioner say, from my perspective, that it was my fault the treatment had gone badly infuriated me. I try very hard to advocate for myself. Western medicine taught me that. I encourage others all the time to advocate for themselves in managing their health.

Today, my leg is better. Just a little stiffness, achiness, and footdrop, but I'm walking much, much better. I've talked to others at school, including the acupuncturist who normally treats me. It seems the needles were left in too long for my ability to tolerate them. It won't happen again, because I'll be much, much more vocal than I've been in the past.


The experience also left me terrified about the possibility of one day hurting one of my patients. All I can do is remain aware and sensitive. I hope we get the training in our program to help us deal with issues like mine when they come up.

Despite my meltdown yesterday, I'm staying in school. I try to believe that all I've been through with MS will make me a better practitioner. It's gifted me in so many other ways, perhaps becoming a competent healer will be the best gift of all.

Mindfulness

I'd like to take this moment to plug my classmate, Lydia's blog, Reflections of an Oriental Medicine Student.

She's also writing about her experience as a TCM student. She gets all the credit for informing us about H.R. 646.

Go, Lydia!

Back to our regularly scheduled blog: On the roller coaster that is school, this week has been great! I studied like a mad woman and aced my practical exam in Living Anatomy. I was nauseous when I went into the room for the test. It went so much better than I expected.

It began simply enough. "Where is the sternoclavicular joint?"

Easy!

Then it got it a little harder from there, but it was over pretty quickly. Great relief!

I also aced my pericardium and heart points quizzes this week. I'm a very happy woman. It seems so up and down, one week I fail a quiz and I feel devastated, the next week I make a few A's and I'm at the top of the world.  Will I get to the point where I'm not so deeply affected by letter grades?

After the practical exam, I still had too much adrenalin running through me. I was still feeling very anxious even though I knew I'd passed. It was a gorgeous day. I came home, put Kieran into the car, and we drove to the 1,000 acre park. The sky was crystal blue clear, there was a strong wind blowing high in the trees, and we found a new trail through some woods. It was heavenly. The perfect way to end a really stressful couple of days.

The following day in Research class, the professor, Ryan Milley,  led us on a mindful meditation before beginning the lecture. It's really wonderful to begin a class with a few minutes of meditation. We've been looking at published studies on acupuncture and other CAM modalities. We're learning how to read scientific studies, critique them, and use them to support our practice.

What's interesting is that in some of the studies, the acupuncturist tells some of the subjects that there is going to be a good outcome from the treatment. It's been proven that if the patient gets this little positive plug from his acupuncturist, the results are more positive than for those who get a practitioner with a flat affect who gives very little explanation of the treatment. On the upside is that those who receive both kinds of treatments do better than those who receive no acupuncture at all.

Establishing mindfulness in us while we're still first year students teaches us experientially how much we can benefit ourselves and our future patients. By being mindful and present with patients, we help them create a better outcome from their treatments. 

I hope that mindfulness will also get me to a place where the highs and lows of my academic career don't take me on such an emotional roller coaster ride. I believe meditation and Qigong will continue teaching me balance.


I know for certain we can rewire our brains. My healing path has proven that. We have the power within us to accomplish so much. It all starts with a few quiet moments, some deep easy breathing, and a focus inward away from the busy bee-hive mind. If you're truly present, it makes the ride so much more manageable.

Namaste