- Good Point Acupuncture2301 Red Bud Ln, Ste 200
Round Rock, TX 78664(512) 731-0642
We will be closed Friday, July 1st – Monday, July 4th to replace the roof. We apologize for the inconvenience.
Appointment TimesTue1pm - 6pmWed9am - 1pmThu1pm - 6pmFri9am - 1pmSat9am - 1pm
“Wonderful experience. Nice, relaxing and attentive. Really helped my chronic pain.” -J.K.
Really helped my chronic pain. was last modified: February 19th, 2020 by Yvonne Perez Kettering
“There is nothing better than an acupuncture nap! Not only is this wonderful service needed by many, but the price can’t be beat ! This is now an affordable service. Yvonne is a caring, perceptive, professional. If you have never tried acupuncture, this is your opportunity to see if this... Read more »
“As soon as you walk in it’s very calming and relaxing with nice smells and dim lighting, and then the main treatment room is very comfortable too. I had a great nap. It’s very affordable so there is no reason not to try.” -K.F.
It’s very affordable so... Read more »
“I live an hour away and still make the drive to come see Yvonne! I do not like needles but Yvonne is great at what she does and the atmosphere at GP is quiet and relaxing, which calms me. I’m so glad my family found her!” -L.L.
I... Read more »
“1st session was great. Will be going back.” -M.S
Will be going back. was last modified: February 19th, 2020 by Yvonne Perez Kettering
“It was my first time doing acupuncture so I had no idea what to expect. It was a good experience. The needles don’t hurt and then you relax for 45 minutes to allow the body to do it’s magic. I quickly signed up for more sessions. Thank you Yvonne.” -G.I.... Read more »
When You Love Someone With Cancer
Guest blogger – Jana Nelson
Pedicures, vacuum cleaners and other gestures of love
Taking care of care givers
Don’t get me wrong, having cancer sucks. And while I have not been diagnosed with cancer, I feel a bit like a survivor – because I have intimately loved people with cancer. I’m at four but considering the broken world we live in, I don’t expect I’ve reached my limit.
My grandfather had cancer in his eighties. He was diagnosed, thumbed his nose at most medical advice and lived another decade. God bless him!
My mom was diagnosed with breast cancer when I was in college. It was scary but a bit far away. By the time I found out about it, a plan was already in place. Mom bravely chose to have a mastectomy, opted out of radiation and reconstruction, spent the next five years taking Tamoxifen and committed herself to healthy, intentional living. She handled it so easily and gracefully that after my initial fears were relieved, I never really associated my mom with cancer. Fast forward 20+ healthy, happy years, when a series of unusual symptoms found my mom in the emergency room. What we first thought might be blood pressure problems turned into a discovery of advanced cancer in her lungs and brain. 15 months later after giving it all she had, she gracefully exited this world in the arms of her Savior, leaving a permanent hole in my heart.
Six months after my mom’s death, a tumor was found in my dad’s sinuses. I’ll be honest. I had a few choice words for God at that point. But after a successful surgery and seven weeks of radiation, my dad is cancer-free.
And then last month it was Bonnie. I hate cancer.
I don’t pretend to know first-hand what cancer is like. What I know is cancer, once removed. I know what it feels like when the people you love the most receive news that rips your heart out. And I know what it’s like to feel helpless. I have juggled schedules and driven all over the countryside for countless appointments and procedures, shuffled young children hither and yon, rearranged bedrooms to house my beloved sick parents, ignored my very sympathetic husband and generally put life on hold while I loved someone who had cancer. I wouldn’t dream of trying to tell anyone what to do for a cancer patient. But I can tell you what was done for me – the person helping to care for their loved one with cancer.
You often hear people with cancer admit that it’s difficult to ask for help, awkward to be taken care of and uncomfortable to be the focus of so much attention. If you are one of the care givers, receiving help feels worse. With both my parents, but particularly during my mom’s long and difficult journey, I can tell you about the love that was lavished on me…and I wasn’t even the sick one. I often felt like a fraud. But with the clarity that comes from hindsight, and with humility and gratitude beyond words, I readily acknowledge that my friends carried me on their shoulders so that I could support my mom. Their extravagant care, that made me so uncomfortable, is one of the most precious gifts that God has given me in this life.
While every situation is different, my hope is that my story might prompt your creativity in supporting those that you love. Because I was loved so well, I now know how to love others who are walking in my shoes. I am prepared to share from the abundances of riches I received.
Here are a few things I learned:
SICKNESS IS EXPENSIVE – Half of my mom’s care was with me in Dallas and half near her home, a four-hour drive for me. I’m a stay-at-home mom and my sweet husband carries the financial burden for our family. A friend gave me a $500 Visa card to cover gas and travel expenses. And often hugs and handshakes included cash.
MOMMY GUILT IS ON OVERDRIVE – I have two young children. At the time of Mom’s diagnosis they were in Kindergarten and 1st grade. I worried constantly about all the shuffling, travelling and just plain lack of energy I had to give them. Countless friends babysat, did car pool pick up for me and just generally filled in the gap for us. Family friends even included my two children on their annual trip to the State Fair of Texas, a brilliant memory for them that they still talk about.
SERIOUSLY, I HAVE TO COOK?! I am not a natural whiz in the kitchen. I blame my mother. However when I was being pulled in every direction, I could not even fathom meal planning. Yet, our family was fed for months. Despite my protests about not being the sick person, a calendar was created and meals arrived regularly. Restaurant gift cards were handed to us. Dinner invitation came regularly. It is embarrassing how well we ate during that season of our lives.
THERE’S A STRANGER IN MY BED – Needless to say, my husband took on the lion’s share of managing our little household. I was meeting myself coming and going, away as much as I was home. But because he loved me and my mother, he held it all together and never complained about being ignored. An anonymous gift of movie tickets and a restaurant gift card came at just the right time for a much-needed date night.
ARE MY ROOTS SHOWING? With everything going on, I had no time for myself and I even felt guilty thinking about superficial things while my mom was so sick. A friend whisked me off for a pedicure and then paid for it. We just sat and talked and it was heaven. I needed someone to remind me it was okay to indulge in a little luxury – living is what life is all about, after all.
LIVING IN A PIG STY – When you are going non-stop, cleaning your house is the last thing on anyone’s mind. More than once, friends showed up and just cleaned. And when my vacuum cleaner wouldn’t work, they went out and bought me a new one. I swallowed my pride, accepted their unbelievable gift of unconditional friendship and love.
If you love people, my best advice is to try and meet their physical needs. Don’t ask or they’ll tell you they’re fine. Obviously everyone has different boundaries so think about who your friends are and how you can best show them love.
My other tip is to remind care givers that they aren’t forgotten. I received cards, emails and texts that carried me though my exhaustion some days. When mom was sick, it didn’t seem fair that life went on as usual for everyone else. Just knowing that Mom and I weren’t forgotten was golden to me.
My prayer and expectation with cancer is always restoration and remission. I’m so grateful that I’ve had that with my Dad and I fully anticipate a cancer-free life for Bonnie after this season has been completed. But sometimes the answer isn’t what we hope. In my case, God’s plan was for my mom to be healed…just not here on this earth. And when my heart was broken wide open and I was weary to the bone, my sweet friend Bonnie packed up her bag of healing, got in her car, drove five hours to be with my family to celebrate the amazing life of my mother. She stayed in our home and she offered my family her very best –her gifts that met our physical and emotional needs with massage, acupuncture, chocolate and tissues. I’ve always loved her but those few days, I loved her just a little bit more.
My story is but one. My list doesn’t even scratch the surface. Each gift came just when God knew I needed it. Each one was a blessing, a treasure. None surpassed another. They were all jewels, not just for me but for my husband and kids, and my mom – the one I had the privilege of helping. Behind each gift was a friend, someone who actually spent time, initiative or money to do something for me. For their tangible outpouring of love, I will before grateful.
So look around. See who needs you. Get on out there and love someone.
The Hair Blog
Warning: Bratty Tantrum Ahead
I thought about calling this blog entry something like Hair Today Gone Tomorrow, Hair We Go, Not So Hairy Situation, or something funny and cute like that. But I don’t feel funny or cute. I feel naked and cold and insecure. But I knew that I had to write a blog about hair loss since it is such a huge symbol of cancer.
I didn’t want to have a head shaving party. I don’t want to walk around bald to celebrate my strength and confidence and prove that my true beauty is inside…blah, blah, blah. I know what kind of person I am inside. I am constantly being surprised on this journey by my strength and that of those who are in this with me. Just when I think I can’t take anymore – I do. That’s because of my faith. I really believe that HE is in control and that I CAN do all things through Christ, who strengthens me. But I’m not always happy about it.
Here’s the thing about my hair. I’ve never had a gorgeous body. I am short and chubby. I am not graceful. I am not athletic. And my feet are too big for my height. But I always had fabulous hair – thank you mom. It was thick, black, curly, and versatile. It did what I told it to – except in extreme humidity but nobody’s hair can stand up to a Texas summer. But I didn’t appreciate it. I actually complained sometimes that I had too much hair. I am kicking myself in the butt for that one now. I miss my hair. It kept me warm. It gave me a sense of security. I never realized how I used to wrap my hair around me in uncomfortable situations until I reached for it and it wasn’t there. Hair doesn’t equal beauty but have you ever seen a bald Disney princess? I am no princess but I personally felt better with long hair. And who doesn’t love when someone else plays with your hair? It’s so soothing and calming. Although he is sweet and keeps telling me that I’m beautiful, it just doesn’t feel the same when my husband runs his fingers through the stubble on my head. My eyelashes and eyebrows are thinning out, too. It’s just annoying and looks weird. On the bright side, I don’t have to shave my legs or arm pits.
It’s not all about my vanity. Up until now I have been able to hide the fact that I have cancer. I have been very transparent and honest about the whole situation but until I lost my hair it wasn’t truly real. I could still look in the mirror every day and at least look normal. I could go about my day and forget about cancer for a while. Now I look in the mirror and the bald head staring back at me screams “You have cancer!” It literally shocks me to see the stranger in the mirror every time. Besides the pink ribbon, baldness is the sign of cancer. Most women aren’t bald on purpose unless they also have many tattoos and facial piercings. I suppose that is an option. I would look totally normal in Austin but that’s just not my style. And my husband said no to that. So instead, I wear a wig which I am grateful to have. And even though “it looks just like your real hair,” it’s still obviously a wig. It’s not me. It doesn’t feel good. It actually feels like I’m walking around with a stuffed animal on my head. I know “it’s just hair,” and “it will grow back,” but that’s not the point. The point is that I have cancer and I can’t hide it or escape it anymore. And I don’t like it. I don’t like that now I look sick. I don’t like that it makes people uncomfortable and they’re not quite sure how to relate to me now.
As much as it sucks to loose my hair, there are some awesome things about it, too. Like these people who shaved or buzzed their heads to show their love and support for me.
Sweet Bruce sporting the purple band that says “Kicking Cancer’s Bon Bon” that he and Jana and their kids are selling as a fundraiser for me. They call me Bonnie. And showing his love on the back.
Stacy’s Mohawk. The first thing she said when I told her that I had cancer was “When can we shave our heads?” Followed by “Can we do mohawks? What about henna tattoos”
Cancer, “Ain’t nobody got time for that!”
– Kimberly “Sweet Brown” Wilkins
Cancer is a full time job. I’ve already had 7 doctor appointments in the last month and I’m not even done. In the previous 12 years combined I’ve been to 2 doctor appointments other than my yearly lady exam so this is a real inconvenience. But as my good friend, Jana, says – “God doesn’t care about our convenience. He cares about our hearts.” Jana’s mother, Wilma, beat breast cancer in 1988/89 but passed away last year after another year long battle with this disease. Wilma was the kind of woman who elicited strong emotions from people. You either loved her or you didn’t. But even if you didn’t, you soon loved her anyway. I like to think of Wilma directing the angels in Heaven and mobilizing them on my behalf.
In the last 2 weeks I have been preparing for chemotherapy. That included surgery last week to install the port through which the chemo will be administered. It is called a “Power Port” which I like. I like to think of it as the place where they will fill me with special powers instead of poison. It is on my left side right under the collar bone. You can see a slight bulge under the skin but it’s not too noticeable. The problem is that was my one good side to sleep on since the tumor is on the right side and now it is sore from the surgery. So now I am forced to sleep on my back which is uncomfortable and annoying. These are some of the things they don’t tell you.
Also last week, I cut my hair to prepare for chemo. I figured it was going to fall out anyway so I may as well cut it off. It was just long enough to donate to Locks of Love so that makes me feel better. Personally, I don’t like short hair on myself. I think I look like Betty Rubble. But I am consoled when I think of somone else, who has perhaps gone through chemo, who gets to enjoy my hair.
Yesterday I had a CT and bone scan. Today I had an echocardiogram. Tomorrow I will have an MRI. Next week I have a follow up appointment for the port surgery. And then I finally start chemo. In between all the doctor appointments there are the countless calls to schedule, reschedule, take care of payments, deal with insurance…aaaahhhhh! And I still have to run my own business and take care of my own patients. To make it more fun, (I’m being a smart ass, what a surprise) I have begun taking 20 mgs of melatonin per day to protect my heart, kidneys, and brain from the chemo and it makes me sooooo tired. I feel slightly hung over all day and I didn’t even get to enjoy the party that usually comes before the hangover. Seriously, ain’t nobody got time for this! I need a cancer assistant! Luckily, I do have a lot of help when I ask for it. But I am terrible at asking for it. That, my friends, is at least one of my lessons in all of this. I’m usually the caregiver and I’m not used to needing care or help. It makes me uncomfortable to be honest. But again, God knows what He’s doing building character, strength, humility, patience, and whatever else I don’t even know I need.
The lessons are not all for me. And this cancer is not all about me. I look around at my friends and family and I see how this is affecting them and I can see God at work in them too. It’s amazing to see what is happenning. People I don’t even know are praying for me, sending me messages, and asking how they can help. It’s really beautiful and humbling. If you’re my friend on facebook then you know that at least once a year my status reads “People Are Crazy.” People ARE crazy. But they are also good. They’re just looking for an opportunity to show you.