I’ve been told that I’m gullible. I say that I have faith in the goodness of mankind, that people are innately good. I trust easily and it’s because of this that I had my first (and definitely not last) near-death experience.
My birthmother noticed that my knee was hurting, probably due to the fact that I’ve been icing it religiously (remember when I wrote about being old and having my body break down?). She pointed at her knee and made multiple poking motions with her fingers. I figured that she wanted to take me to get acupuncture and I figured “why not?”
We walked into the clinic and there were about 20 people in the waiting room. The receptionist spoke enough English to ask me to fill out my name, address, ask where I was hurting, and if I had any allergies to medicine. I completed the form, showed her where I was in pain (my right knee and left hamstring), and confirmed that I have no medical allergies.
When it was my turn to see the doctor, I was a little nervous.
I removed my shoes, sat on the table, and looked around. Supposedly, this doctor is famous in Korea, and according to the nurse, he is the doctor to the President of Korea. He even has lots of pictures of himself and (I’m guessing) famous people, and this weird, framed picture of himself.
As I was sitting on the table, nervous and a little excited, I asked the nurse if I could take photos. She nodded and I prepared to get some great pictures of needles sticking out of my body.
Then the doctor entered the room and came at me with a needle full of an unknown substance.
I exclaimed loudly enough for the receptionist to come in and ask me to quiet down. I tried to stop him (this does not look like acupuncture), but he attempted to calm me down. This needle is most definitely not an acupuncture needle.
Well, maybe he needs to numb the area before he injects me. I’ll let him do that, I guess.
Then he proceeded to poke and inject, poke and inject, poke and inject, all over my knee. I didn’t feel any numbness.
Then I flipped over onto my stomach. He did the same poke/inject sequence all over my hamstring. Again, no numbness.
The doctor left the room and the nurse started pulling my pants down. I was very confused, but I figured that maybe they had to do more injections to help with the blood flow to my hamstring. At this point, I was laughing.
And before I knew it, my session was over. I was curious about what mysterious liquid they poked me with, so I asked the nurse for the name. She said “it’s a kind of honey medicine” and gave me the Korean words for it.
I immediately dismissed this treatment as a waste of time and money. Honey? To cure my gimpy knee and hamstring? Doubtful.
I meandered down the road to a nearby coffee shop and Googled the Korean that she wrote down. It was dried honey with bee venom. Very interesting since I happen to be allergic to bees.
Being a hypochondriac never helps in situations like these. I frantically began Googling everything I could think of:
- Will I die with honey bee venom injections if I’m allergic to bee stings?
- Bee venom: uses, side effects, interactions
- Wikipedia: bee sting
- Dried honey bee venom
- How long does it take to have an allergic reaction to bee venom?
- Foods and bee stings
- WebMd (I probably spent far too long on WebMd and as any doctor can attest–that’s a terrible idea)
It had been around an hour since I got the injections. I looked down at my knee: no swelling, itching, or otherwise alarming side effects. Wait, is my neck itching now? Is my throat closing? I think my knee is getting redder. Yes, my neck is definitely itchy.
On the walk home, I started thinking some really morbid thoughts.
How do I make a will? I bet I can find something online. If I do it online, is it legal? Do I need to get a lawyer? I don’t have any debt, so that’s a good thing, right? Do I have any lawyer friends who specialize in wills? Should I ask my brother for his lawyer’s phone number? Should I write a goodbye letter to my family? Did I tell my family that I loved them today?
I didn’t sleep well that night. I was afraid that this would be like getting a concussion. You know, where you’re fine until you go to sleep and then you never wake up.
I miraculously did wake up and lived to tell the tale.