A story with a point — in fact, many points

Reporter Wyatt Ryder is pushing outside his comfort zone. This time he turns himself into a human porcupine — mostly for your entertainment, but also in the hope it might help him sleep more and pee less.

Five vaccines, two ear piercings and a blood test.

I’ve been impaled quite a bit this year, but have never grown comfortable around needles.

Few things make me more nervous than sitting in a chair with my sleeve rolled up.

But what if needles could be used for good?

I’ve got all kinds of stupid health problems. Myriad pains plague me. My ears, hands, back, neck and feet are all on the list, not to mention a frequent inability to sleep.

It all went in a comprehensive three-page health form I submitted to ProAcupuncture, a Dunedin acupuncture service which was going to help solve my woes.

Each ailment — of which there were about 190 to chose from — was circled. I ticked off 12, including "urine urgency," "easy to catch cold" and "stressed".

We showed up on the day of the appointment and were sure we were lost. The building looked like a flat.

A big sign by the front door led the way. I stepped into the hallway and turned left into the reception, which seemed to be based in a former bedroom.

Dawson Huang was the acupuncturist. We sat down and he explained a bit of the science behind it all.

By inserting needles into specific parts of my body, Dawson was going to increase blood flow to the organs linked to my ailments.

My chest pain was linked to my lungs. My overthinking connected to my spleen.

I didn’t quite understand it all, but he’s the one with the degree, not me. The end result would hopefully be a more balanced body and a happier Wyatt.

First we had to get some blood pumping around my back. The most effective way to do that is suck it to the surface.

I lay face down on the bed while Dawson popped out of the room, them returned with a roller tray covered in hot bamboo cups.

The cups would create a vacuum against my skin, increasing blood circulation to the area and leaving a gnarly bruise.

The first cup was slapped on with a subtle, comedic plop.

It took me by surprise. The bamboo pulled taut on my right shoulder. It was hot and uncomfortable, but not quite painful. Seven more followed.

The sensation felt like a constant rough massage, both relaxing and stressful. If this was just the start I was worried what the needles would feel like. Dawson plucked the cups free after about five minutes, leaving swollen red trails down my back. It was needle time.

He gently held my foot and warned me of the incoming needle.

Being pierced in the heel did Achilles in — what were my odds? The anticipation was killing me.

I waited. And I waited.

And then Dawson moved on to the next spot. He got halfway up my body before I asked him if he had started.

I don’t actually know how many needles he put in me, or where; I barely felt any of them.

Once my body was spiked up, Dawson put on some soothing music and left me to relax for 30 minutes while the needles fixed up my body.

There was plenty of time to examine how my body felt. Occasionally my skin would give the tiniest twitch, or feel a wave of heat. After about 15 minutes a strange, scattered cooling sensation ran across the surface of my back.

I had come in fearing the worst, but the only irritation came from my face pillow, which had awkwardly slipped down. I could not adjust due to the needles throughout my body.

The acupuncturist returned, and after some brief chit-chat he casually picked the needles from my back.

He gently grabbed my wrists, which confused me, but it turns out he had put needles there too without me noticing.

After a big stretch and a lofty yawn I buttoned up my shirt and thanked them for their help. My photographer picked me up and handed me a soda.

A quick lunch later and I got back to the office. Everybody wanted to check out the rows of black marks on my back. Then I started to feel tired.

Within an hour the exhaustion hit. It was like the needles had unleashed a wave of fatigue and my body was screaming at me to tuck into bed, but there were still stories to write.

Somehow I survived to 5.30pm. I ate a plate of leftover meatballs, then went straight to bed.

My sleep did not last any longer than usual, but it was incredible. I don’t remember the last time I had such a refreshing sleep.

The cupping bruises lasted about two weeks. There weren’t any noticeable improvements in the bladder department, but I yearn to sleep as well as I did that night.

Dawson could stick needles anywhere he wanted if it would keep this magic coming.

wyatt.ryder@odt.co.nz