About halfway through the summer, I sprained my ankle doing some dumb shit at Tompkins. With no health insurance, I kept it old school with an ice pack and some dynamite reefer as my medication. Because I’m an old man, the shit took about three months to fully heal. Luke told me about a spot in Chinatown on Mott just south of Canal. He’d gone there to get his knee worked and said it really helped get it back to normal. So I went to check it out: $25 bucks for a half an hour of full on, sometimes painful, hands-on therapy on my ankle. At one point the lady was beating on it, no joke. Punching my ankle as hard as she could. Hitting it so hard the point that I had to motion her to ease up because it was hurting so bad. I’m sure she knows what she’s doing though. Throughout the whole thing, she was dousing my leg with this Tiger Balm-like oil. Dousing like it was hot sauce. I was so convinced by this potion of Chinese healing power, I bought a bottle on my way out. Skating away from the place, both my legs were a mentholatum-numb from the knees down. Felt kinda crazy. Two days later, after the soreness from the beating, my ankle felt so fucking good. George Bush and his overpriced healthcare can kiss my numb ass. I’m skating again and I want to thank Chan Yat Hing and the people at the spot on Mott for that.
Posted on October 28, 2007 at 03:10 PM | Comment (1 comments)
