Acupuncture offers a detailed, holistic health approach to treating a person's root issues

People will go to great lengths to improve their well-being, including voluntarily allowing a licensed acupuncturist to insert needles into the skin for healing purposes. Of course, this increasingly popular technique is nothing new.

Acupuncture, the practice of penetrating the skin with needles to stimulate specific points on the body, has been used for centuries to treat a wide range of health issues. The precise date of acupuncture’s invention in ancient China is uncertain, but the method is known to date back thousands of years.

Photo by Jack Reynolds
Parascand rubs a dollop of a mixed blend of
oils on the middle of my forehead.

Considered alternative medicine or a complementary health approach, acupuncture was originally debunked by Western medicine. As health care has evolved in the United States, the practice has become more accepted in the science and healthcare communities.

Many scientific studies have confirmed acupuncture’s treatment of pain, said Taryn Parascand, owner of Living Acupuncture and Healing Arts Center in Barnegat Township. The 1996 Southern Regional High School graduate, who now lives in Waretown with her husband and two sons, said she knew from a very young age when she played with mud and berries that she was meant to help others heal and “find their authentic soul.”

Parascand holds a master’s degree in traditional Oriental medicine from the Pacific College of Oriental Medicine in New York City. She opened her own healing center in December, and she intends for it to be a healing place that people can trust and feel secure in.

“In order to really heal, I know a person needs to become vulnerable. But in order to become really vulnerable and allow yourself to let go, you have to be able to trust me and the energy here that is safe and healing,” said Parascand. “I strive to uphold that, and I’m committed to building that for people, to help them.

“The body is capable of healing itself, and the acupuncture is a way to enhance the body’s innate ability to bring itself back to healing,” she added. “It has everything it already needs inside. It’s just a matter of unlocking the qi, or getting it flowing, or building more, or dispersing it. It just depends on what that person needs. No two people are treated the same.”

Acupuncture is used to help prevent and treat many ailments, such as infertility, colds and flus, headaches, dermatology and digestive as well as psychological and gynecological issues, to name a few. Pain is the number one reason people seek out the practice, said Parascand.

Photo by Jack Reynolds
The body has hundreds of acupoints to
access the meridians or energy channels. 

Last week, she led me through my first acupuncture treatment.

“What’s your chief complaint?” asked Parascand.

I had to think about that one as I had recently seen a number of doctors who have sent me in for blood work, prescribed antibiotics and referred me for a CAT scan and an MRI. Needless to say, I have a few medical concerns. But what has really been bothering me lately is an overall sense of physical depletion.

“Honestly, I feel malnourished,” I told the acupuncturist. “But if that’s not something this sort of practice can help, I have a whole list of other complaints,” I assured her.

To help the acupuncturist better assess a person’s concerns, clients are required to fill out a detailed health history form.

“We’re working to get a full picture. We’re not just treating symptoms; we’re treating the root,” said Parascand. “It’s not like if you have elbow pain, I’m just going to stick needles in your elbow. It’s holistic medicine, so it treats the whole person: the body, the mind, the emotions, the spirit.”

Acupuncture usually requires multiple sessions to fully treat specific concerns, “to peel the layers away.” Everyone is also recommended to see his or her medical doctor.

“I don’t know of any of us that are looking to be the first and only choice. I don’t want to be because I’m not a medical doctor,” said Parascand. “Some people just get it and want it and know that they need it. Others have tried everything else. Others are overwhelmed because they’re on a lot of different medications, and there’s a lot of side effects,” she added.

After addressing my dietary dilemmas – mostly my modern-day vegan diet, which is nearly void of meats and dairy and full of on-the-go eating habits, which include a handful of fruits and vegetables and a slew of veggie hoagies from Wawa as well as packaged oatmeal and canned soups reminiscent of dog food – we further investigated my emaciated feeling.

“Food is medicine. It can really affect the body,” said Parascand.

In a professional and caring manner, she felt the pulses on my wrist, which she indicated were “slow,” and inspected my tongue, “a dark red color with a thicker coat.” Then she asked me about my menses and my digestion, mainly my bowel movements.

Photo by Jack Reynolds
The needles inserted on my feet are
a tad bothersome.

“Are they well-formed? Do they smell?” she asked with genuine curiosity.

For the reader’s sake, I will not share my replies. But I suggest being open with your practitioner. They are only there to help you.

Parascand continued to investigate my health and wanted to know what I most often suffer from.

“Nauseous stomachaches, a result of anxiety and stress,” I told her.

With Parascand’s professional guidance, I informed her of my history of depression and rattled off the names of different medications I take. I also recounted bits and pieces from my two-month stint in a medically induced coma, following a 2006 head-on car collision. This especially intrigued her. Had I fully recovered? Did I require subsequent surgery? Did I grieve properly?

“Mostly; yes; probably not.”

With much of the information she now needed, the practitioner asked me to remove my shoes and socks and roll up my pant legs and sleeves before lying on the acupuncture table, which had been electronically heating up. She later added heat to my abdomen and feet via heating lamps “because they felt cold.” The extra warmth was comforting to me, but clients adverse to heat can opt out of it.

Before getting to the needles – which are about the width of a single hair and used only once, then sanitized and thrown away – Parascand wafted lavender essential oil over my body for relaxation, and rubbed a dollop of a mixed blend of oils called tonify earth on my stomach channel, to help boost my qi.

The Snow Lotus oils “are 100 percent natural. It’s not like Glade Plug-In,” she said.

Until Parascand knew I had grown comfortable enough to allow her to continue her practice as she saw fit, the first couple of needles were inserted on calculated exhalations.

“Breathe in, breathe out,” stick.

A needle was placed in the center of each of my feet, just below my knees on the side of each of my legs, in each hand and ear and in the middle of my forehead. Three needles were also placed around my navel. Though I do not have a needle phobia, I can still recount the memory of searing pain after my nightly stomach shots in the hospital eight years ago. Thankfully the acupuncture needles did not bother me the least bit.

I was, however, very aware of the others atop my feet, and my left ear throbbed.

I was told these were strong points. There are hundreds of acupoints along the meridians or energy channels of the body where qi flows, the circulating life force in Chinese philosophy. Each acupoint is coordinated with a specific organ, Parascand explained.

“It’s similar to water flowing in rivers. Qi flows in meridians, and when it gets stuck or stagnant due to different reasons, this is when pain happens or the disharmony, which can then lead to disease,” she said.

During my inhalations, I was encouraged to breathe in a sense of peace and all things good. On exhalations, I was to release all that had been left stagnant in my body. This became my mantra.

“How do you feel?” Parascand asked when the session was over.

After sitting up, I told her I felt an incredible flow of movement within my body. The whirring sensation trickled all over.

“Beautiful,” she replied, smiling.

She said she had worked with various points on my body to boost my qi and get it flowing. She gathered that the trauma I experienced during the car accident had probably created energy blockages, causing my qi to become slow and stagnant.

“It should always be moving. It’s all about harmonizing,” she emphasized.

After just one treatment, I can honestly say I have felt less anxious than usual. I still feel depleted and tired, but peeling away those layers would most likely require extra treatments and a visit with a nutritionist.

–Kelley Anne Essinger

This article was published in The SandPaper.