Yesterday my father took me to the acupuncturist, Mr. Cheng.
Although my sister and father warned me that this person would be all business, he seemed very kind. Both times he ushered us to the office, motioned me to the exam table, and then said, "here's a chair for Daddy."
He examined my arm, and then he basically said, your recovery is up to you. Then he put a lot of needles in to me. Afterwards I confessed to my dad that some of the needles seemed a little too close to my spine. Fortunately, I didn't see most of them.
These days I've been having a really hard time, especially with sleep issues. But a gentle reminder, delivered with sympathy, helps me: my recovery is up to me. And of course, with a lot of support from family, friends, and therapists.
On February 2, 2010, I had a stroke. I was 45. The origins of my brain hemorrhage are a mystery. I have two children, who were 4 and 7 at the time, a wonderful husband, and a great nuclear and extended family. Some say I was a little happier after my stroke. Having a stroke is no fun, but the parade of family and friends has kept me going.