What should you try?
RAKxa offered me a litany of new sensations. I’ve never been in a hyperbaric chamber and I felt like the last astronaut in the escape pod of an Alien franchise installment, breathing extremely enthusiastically as the pressure shifted. I’ve never been one-on-one full-body stretched like taffy by a guy with enviable quads. A Chinese medicine specialist migrated my intestines northward with her confident hands. One of the most memorable experiences is the suspension therapy, in which I assumed I’d be cradled like a newborn in the stork’s napkin. After a few unserious supported planks (my core is petit filous), I was gently wrapped, my body supported midair, my arms crossed over my chest like a reclining pharaoh, while therapists coaxed my limbs into long, languid stretches. At various points, I felt like Stretch Armstrong, origami, an office stress toy. A strange floaty weightlessness was followed by an overwhelming sense that I could nap—deeply, gloriously—at the drop of a hat.
Elsewhere there are more medical-sounding options. My Blood Ozone IV therapy—a blood-oxygen treatment—left me glowing like someone who drinks three liters of water a day, owns a very good blender, and casually forgives their enemies.
Photo: Courtesy of RAKxa Integrative Wellness
What else do we need to know?
RAKxa specializes in what might be called extreme rest. Not the ordinary “I’ll lie down for 10 minutes and try not to look at my phone” variety, but the kind where your mind drifts so far from your to-do list it becomes a distant rumor. Your calendar dissolves. Your emails lose their emotional charge. Your nervous system cuts to a commercial break.
I arrived thinking the science would be the magic trick. The machines, the scans, the analysis—the sleek medical theater of it all felt like the main event, the quantifiable getting-more-well of wellness. Though there’s something thrilling about watching your internal workings explained with precision and seriousness. The real revelation turned out to be the Eastern side of the program. Chinese medicine practitioners approached my body like landscape architects—gently shifting, coaxing, and prodding until things seemed to flow somewhere slightly more sensible. Science opens the door, but the older practices are the quiet show stealers. I’m reminded that, though the future of wellness may be extremely high-tech, it still involves someone pressing exactly the right point on your shoulder.