I shut my car door and walked across the street. Within minutes, I was standing in front of the Acupuncture Clinic. The door was locked, as I knew it would be. On my first visit, I had forgotten to write down the code that would open the front door. This time I had found the code and committed it to memory.
After unlocking the door, I took a seat in the waiting room. I noticed the wide array of artwork. There was a picture of a woman in a olive green peasant dress. She had two heads! An abstract picture of a mother and baby and a five-foot red, black and yellow tiled piece caught my eye. To my right, there was a plant with hundreds of orange and black fronds.
The office ceiling had been removed allowing all of the exposed pipes to become pieces of art. Above the pipes the new ceiling was painted black. How in the world had I missed all of this on my first visit? All I had seen when I entered the office the first time was the acupuncturist sitting at the desk. After signing consent forms, I had gone into the treatment room without noticing the building was filled with art.
After marveling at the artwork for a few minutes, the acupuncturist greeted me and took me to the treatment room. I, with great pleasure, told him that both my blood pressure and my digestion had significantly improved following my first session. I was excited to see what would happen this time.
He began to place the small needles. Twice they stung as they were tapped into my skin. Soon, my body began to relax and I started to breathe deeply, filling my lungs with oxygen. I love that sensation. This was so different than my normal shallow breathing.
As I breathed, I relaxed deeper and deeper. The doctor came into the room several times to check on me. All was well. I relaxed deeper and deeper. I drifted close to sleep. Before long, I noticed the sounds outside my room. People were walking and talking in the hallway. Had those sounds been there the whole time? Moments later, the acupuncturist came into the room and removed the needles. When I looked at the clock I saw that more than an hour had passed. Oh, I could get used to being this relaxed!
Written for Writing 101 Assignment Day #8