The first thing you need to know is to not call it "reiki shit." Practitioners of reiki shit don't think it's shit at all. They'd probably prefer that you call it just reiki. But it's shit, trust me.
I explained my condition, and Reiki Master Shitstar told me that what she does isn't healing in the traditional sense. Rather, she could use her hands to manipulate life energy in a way that would promote healing and help me get better sooner. I wanted so badly to ask if that meant a happy ending, but this was a lady in her 60s with one brown tooth, and part of me was very afraid she'd say yes.
Pick your battles, kids.
I was laid down on what I think is a massage table with some pillows in a room full of crystals and musical instruments and assorted other knickknacks. Some incense was lit, some meditation music was put on, and away we went. Basically, I received the absolute worst massage in the history of time. Rather than rubbing or kneading, it consists of an old lady just putting her hands in one spot and holding them there for a solid five minutes or so before going somewhere else. She talked about chi flow for a while, too, which made me think I could start doing kung fu, but my efforts to punch through walls since leaving her have been shameful failures.
After a 30-minute session of lying still in a room that smelled like jasmine and cat pee, I felt no closer to health, but she assured me she'd rearranged my midi-chlorians enough that I'd be feeling better in no time.
"All part of the healing process."
I suppose the beauty of reiki for a condition like this is that I'm going to get better eventually anyway, so was it the reiki that did it or just my own immune system? And if I used it to treat something like cancer, I'd probably die before I could sue for malpractice. She really can't lose.