

I'd been so busy boasting about my forthcoming leeching experience to friends and total strangers it hadn't occurred to me to be scared, until I saw the Leech Jar. The right one was more important, but I decided to sacrifice it anyway, rationalizing that if it calcified into a claw I could at least negotiate a few days off work. (The "hegu," it turns out, which apparently reduces pain, " particularly headaches and dental pain.") I have two hands. He pointed to the top of my hand, the fleshy part between my thumb and forefinger, identifying it as a classic acupuncture pressure point. OK then! A face treatment was an option, but you only get one face in life. That's not really the thing for leeches, Andrew said flatly. I didn't come in with any particular malady in need of healing, though I had a little soreness in my shoulder, maybe from sleeping?

I filled out no paperwork, and Plucinski did not trouble me with a deep probe on my medical history.

The proceedings were alarmingly straightforward. His unlined face and clear eyes came as a comfort. Plucinski himself is a robust man who looks to be in his late 50s or early 60s. (These did turn out to have a tangentially related medical purpose. Instead there were piles upon piles of stuff.a woman's shoe (just the one) beneath a chair, a pair of skis leaning against the wall, and many, many bags of maxi pads piled on a shelf. Upon arrival, I was startled and slightly disconcerted to find that the center lacked the soothing accouterments of a normal waiting room-insipid water colors, a tableful of rumpled Popular Mechanics. The "Silesian Holistic Center" consists of a sectioned off portion of Plucinski's Norman Avenue apartment. The moment I heard there was a guy in Greenpoint curing aches and pains using nature's most fearsome worms, I knew I was giving it a try. Besides, he could have been working out of a cardboard box on the side of the BQE. Andrew Plucinski doesn't work in what one normally considers an "office," but then again, he's not what one typically considers a "therapist," either-the focal point of Plucinski's practice is a jar filled with shimmering, squirming leeches.
