Naked electricity pours through four wires and gets a vice grip on your muscles. From there anything can happen, but mostly wild and unexpected flapping of the arms. I could easily be an extra in Beetle Juice.
Daylight come and I wanna go home.
This Healthmate of mine is the gypsy child of the chiropractor's big mama e-stim machine. She's a beast, that one. The nurse person starts her up and you can feel tectonic plates shift. It's like fifteen amazing minutes in El Dorado. Your knotted up back muscles emerge wobbling like a lump of freshly plated tartare. I had to have one.
I was a jot leery of the vast array of mighty cheap e-stim options on Amazon. My mom said they also sell e-stims in the grocery store for $29.95. She advised, "I would not buy any e-stim you can purchase in the grocery store for $29.95."
So I leveled up and got the most expensive one. It has twelve modes, like acupuncture mode and punch-you-with-a-brick mode. You can adjust the force with which you are beaten. I like to faff around the house looking like I have the nervous system of a magic eight ball.
It's oddly delightful. In short intervals.