What They Came In For: Peripheral Neuropathy
When Karen T. first came to us, she described it like this:
“It feels like my feet are wooden blocks.”
It hadn’t started that way. At first, it was just an odd tingling—a kind of buzzing across the tops of her feet at night. Then a kind of numbness at the tips of her toes. She thought maybe her shoes were too tight. Maybe it was just circulation. But over time, the buzzing turned to burning. The numbness spread. She started feeling unsteady when walking. Sometimes her legs felt like they belonged to someone else. Other times, it was all she could feel—burning, stabbing, buzzing, aching—and no one could tell her why.
She didn’t have diabetes. She wasn’t on chemotherapy. Her labs looked fine. Her neurologist ran the tests, shrugged, and said, “Idiopathic.” Which, in medical language, is a polite way of saying: we don’t know.
“I guess it’s just nerves,” Karen said, laughing tightly. “But that doesn’t make it feel any less real.”
She had tried gabapentin. It made her groggy and forgetful but didn’t touch the pain. She tried B vitamins. Topical creams. Magnesium. Warm socks. Nothing helped. She felt like she was chasing sensation—trying to catch what was still there before it faded completely.
When she came to Root and Branch, what she wanted was simple:
“I just want to feel my feet again.”
We started, as we always do, by listening. And then by mapping.
We had her close her eyes while we gently touched different parts of her feet and lower legs. She pointed to the places she could still feel—sharp here, dull there, nothing at all along the outside of her heel. We marked the edges. Traced where sensation faded and where pain flared. It wasn’t about finding a single diagnosis. It was about learning the landscape of her body—what had gone quiet, what was still speaking, and what might be trying to come back online.
We looked at her tongue and pulse. Asked about her digestion, sleep, circulation, energy. Her body told a story of cold in the channels, blood not flowing freely, the yang of the lower body not reaching the periphery. In Chinese medicine, neuropathy is rarely a standalone problem—it’s a pattern of stagnation and depletion, often years in the making.
We prescribed a custom herbal formula that became the cornerstone of her treatment. Not something generic for “nerve pain,” but a blend built for her: to warm the channels, nourish the blood, invigorate circulation, and open the pathways between the core and the limbs.
She took the formula twice a day. We adjusted it every few weeks as her symptoms changed. And slowly, they did.
We paired the herbs with specialized acupuncture—targeting points that improve blood flow to the legs and feet, awaken dormant nerve pathways, and signal the body to rebuild sensation. We used shallow needling along the areas of numbness to reintroduce stimulus gently, and stronger stimulation at key distal points to boost circulation from the inside out.
Each week, we repeated the map. Touched the same places. Tracked what was coming back.
First, she noticed she could feel the floor more when she walked. Then, she could feel temperature differences between surfaces. The pain episodes became less frequent, less severe. The buzzing turned down to a whisper. She didn’t feel normal yet—but she felt something again.
And that was everything.
“I can tell my body’s trying again,” she said once. “That it’s not giving up on me.”
We see both kinds of neuropathy in our clinic—diabetic and otherwise. We treat the kind with a clear label, and the kind that gets called “idiopathic.” Either way, our approach is the same: we work with what’s in front of us. We listen to the body’s signals. We build a treatment plan rooted in Chinese medicine’s deep understanding of circulation, sensation, and repair. And we don’t stop at symptom management—we support the body in changing the pattern.
What Karen came in for was simple: she wanted to feel her feet again.
What she got was sensation, yes—but also confidence, balance, and the sense that her body was still hers.
If you’re living with numbness, tingling, burning, or strange sensations that no one has been able to explain, know that there are still options. We don’t promise overnight results. But we can offer care that pays attention. That tracks change. That sees what’s missing—and works to bring it back.
Because even when the cause is unknown, healing is still possible.