Joan Ball is a business professor at St. John’s University in New York and the author of Flirting with Faith: My Spiritual Journey from Atheism to a Faith-Filled Life.
Today I took the coward’s way out.
Two days ago, I had an appointment with an acupuncturist–someone I hadn’t been to before. I’d been suffering from migraines, and was told the treatment might be a good holistic alternative to some heavy-duty drugs I was afraid to take. (For some other ideas, see Beliefnet’s Holistic Living area, or learn more about acupuncture here.)
It didn’t go well.
I arrived at the address and found the practice only after wandering the halls of a dingy office building for several minutes. There was no sign to announce I’d arrived in the correct place (or rather, there were two signs, but the first advertised an Ecuadorian consulate branch and the second a revolutionary weight loss scheme–both seemingly defunct). The waiting area was disheveled and barely resembled a medical practice at all. The two practitioners greeted me as best they could, but the language barrier was nearly insurmountable. The only clear communication was their anxiety over being paid, which I did my best to allay.
Long story short, the treatment itself was, while probably not grounds for malpractice, highly disconcerting and certainly less pleasant than the acupuncture I’d had before. The practitioner was extremely rough and even left bruises on my neck and arms from her acupressure massage. The treatment area was much like an emergency room, with tiny curtained-off slots for patients, one right next to the other. Beside me on either side I could hear men–one grunting softly as he was massaged, the other snoring fitfully while the needles did their work. As I was only dressed in a flimsy gown at the time and the curtains were never fully closed, their close proximity felt, shall we say, less than relaxing.
The practitioner did try to explain her actions as she went along, alternately thumping, jabbing and poking me, but we had great difficulty understanding one another. Haltingly, she at last gave up and advised me to Google the name of one of the points she was needling as she didn’t have the words to describe them. I smiled and agreed. Then she told me I’d need to come back, preferably in two days’ time.
And, perhaps suffering some sort of Stockholm Syndrome, I actually did make an appointment to come back for more.
“Maybe this is how it’s supposed to feel,” I told myself. “Maybe I’m being a snob to want a more comfortable environment–something more like what I’m used to. I mean, she does seem to know the techniques, or at least I think she does if what little I understood is correct. And, er, maybe my headache does feel a little bit better?” (Honestly, I suspect she just scared the migraine into remission, as it returned the next morning, along with a tremendous neck spasm from the rough massage.)
By the time I’d gotten home and talked the event over with some friends, I’d already decided I wouldn’t go back for that second appointment. Surely I could find an acupuncturist with whom I’d feel more at ease. So far, no dilemma, right?
But here’s where I went wrong. I chickened out of calling to cancel the appointment.
I think it was because I didn’t want to tell the lady directly that I didn’t like what happened, and I didn’t want to invent some lie about why I had to cancel. I feared the awkward explanation, the language barrier, and perhaps even being talked into comin
g back one more time. So I just let the appointment go by, rationalizing that they didn’t seem busy enough that they’d use the time to schedule another patient. Three hours later, my cell phone rang. I saw the number and guessed it was them. I let it go to voicemail. As soon as the beep told me I had a message, I retrieved it. Sure enough, it was the woman, asking why I had missed the appointment. She also asked how I felt and if I was better.
Guilt has been eating me over this one. I know the old adage “Two wrongs don’t make a right” as well as anyone, and I also know this lady did her best–no harm was meant. I didn’t have to go back, but I should have put on my big-girl pants and at least had the decency to tell them I wasn’t coming. It made me think about what it means to be an adult–basically, in this case, not to weasel out of uncomfortable situations. Maybe next time I’ll do the right thing. Or maybe I’ll even get the gumption to call the lady back tomorrow and explain. But somehow I doubt it.
In my place, what would you have done? I’d really like to hear some thoughts.
posted May 13, 2009 at 10:38 pm
I had a similar situation recently with telling a roommate that I wanted to move-out, but I guess its different in that I didn’t feel that I had much of a choice in whether to tell him or not. I did put it off for weeks after I made up my mind trying to avoid it though. It’s definitely a lot harder to make yourself be an adult when not being one only affects others, and I guess that’s what having “character” is all about. Great thought-provoking article.
posted May 14, 2009 at 3:45 am
I would have called and canceled and made no explanation.
posted May 14, 2009 at 11:02 am
I also would have made a second appointment. Hopefully I would have called to cancel, but it could go either way! Now, frequently, physicians will charge you for appointments not kept or cancelled. This is a motivation!
posted May 14, 2009 at 12:12 pm
Mark, Debbie, Cynthia, thanks for your comments and suggestions. Mark, I especially agree this is an issue of ‘character’. I guess I am still working on mine! Debbie, you are right… lots of doctors’ offices are helping us along developing our ‘characters’ with their cancelation policies. I only wish I hadn’t needed the ‘motivation’. My parents raised me better!
posted May 16, 2009 at 9:11 am
First let me say upfront that I am an Acupuncturist then let me say that if you were uncomfortable with the situation in the office you have every right to not return. However, I do believe that you should have called to cancel the appointment. The reason I believe this is that acupuncturist needs to know that the way they do business makes people uncomfortable. Which they will never look at unless they are told by a patient.
The type of acupuncture that you experienced is a type of “community acupuncture” which is based on how acupuncture is practiced in China. That should have been explained to you on the phone when you made your first appointment.
Even though Acupuncture is a very old form of healing in China it is a relatively new profession here in the United States. There are even a few states left in the country where it is still not legal to practice. As the profession becomes more main stream it will start to look and feel more like what people in this country are used to medical care looking like. But for now acupuncture can take many forms and some of those forms may look and feel very foreign to Americans.
One more point I would like to make. There are many very good Chinese acupuncturists out there but for English speaking patients who like to get more information about their treatment it may be a bit frustrating. You can probably compare this to going to an American western doctor who will only speak medical jargon to their patient and will never learn to speak a more common language so the patient can understand. If you like to ask a lot of questions the language barrier my be to much.
Bottom line ask a lot of questions when you make your first appointment and if you feel pressure to make a second appointment but you are feeling uncomfortable go ahead and cancel it when you get home. But let them know why you are canceling it will do more good than harm
posted May 26, 2009 at 5:21 pm
I am an acupuncture physician and I cringe when I hear about this kind of experience someone has with acupuncture. Not only do not make a second appointment but do not even make the first appointment at a place such as this. I offer a free initial consultation so that, among other things, the patient can become comfortable with me and my office environment before the initial visit. They are free to ask any questions to help them feel at ease. Do not make an appointment until you feel right with your choice. If this happens, hopefully these kind of experiences can be avoided. You vote, through making appointments, who stays in business or not. Do not vote for this kind of treatment even one time.
posted July 8, 2009 at 8:41 am
I am also an acupuncturist and I think it is a shame you did not feel comfortable enough to cancel. The majority of my professors at school were from China and they tend to have more aggressive treatment styles than what us Americans are used to. Some people love it (I actually had one consultation finish bfore it started because I was not Asian) and some people want a more nurturing approach. Periodically I get stood up by clients and it is usually because life gets in the way and I get an “I’m so sorry” phone call. Sometimes it is because acupuncture is not for them, and sometimes I am not for them. A lot of the sheepish call after hours and leave a cancel message. If I answer, I don’t demand an excuse although most of the time they volunteer it.
So basically this is my long-winded way of saying, call to cancel, and try after hours if you feel embarrassed.