Almost all of my gout attacks have come between August and October. Don’t get me wrong: They don’t come annually (anymore). I’ve never lived on any medications, per the doctor’s insistence, and my body has obviously been through more wear and tear than it’s ever been. Logic would dictate that I should have more frequent gout attacks – but I have less. Why?

Is aging not a factor in illness and disease? Don’t be ridiculous. Aging is always a factor, but western culture and medicine often insist on highlighting it as the primary or only factor, which allows consumers to assume the victim role and pharmaceutical companies the role of multi-billionaire at the expenses of quality of life.

I’m proud to say I’ve had only one gout attack in the past five years – she was a doozy and she came in October – but still that’s 80{1aa9de95a2a3029621de3a4e52025ffcf61ae00c0b585d28b8293fd925977ff4} less than how often the condition used to confront me. The only possible explanation could be the only constantly changing variable, my own diet and discipline. Approximately each year I improve a little bit: Either I become a better chef or I get snobbier about the produce and meats that I buy. I eat more and more cooked greens, I discovered an affinity for high quality mushrooms, and most importantly I gave up all refined sugar. I intermittently fast as often as possible, I bought a Berkey water filter instead of the cheap Brita and my breathing during most days is more mindful. We have no choice but to constantly improve, lest suffer the consequences of old age.

Still now is the time of year I am most careful. Towards the end of summer I try to avoid shellfish, cured meats, lentils and sardines. And just because you don’t have gout doesn’t mean this seasonal transition couldn’t be a trigger for you as well. Be forewarned: For one of us it is gout, for another is acid reflux and allergies, and another is menstrual cramps and migraines. Believe it or not, from a holistic medical perspective all of these conditions can potentially be a result of one broad pattern: Dampness.

As summer comes to a close our bodies are inundated with an internal accumulation of the humid climate we’ve been steeped in for the past 100 days – especially those of us who have been mostly quarantined in air conditioned homes that suppress perspiration and cause us to retain more pathogenic fluid than we should. Although this was a unique year, summer tends to coincide with more socializing, which usually includes more alcohol consumption and foods like pizza or barbecue, all of which are fun but can exacerbate the same metabolic humidity, or as Chinese Medicine calls it: “Damp Heat.”

“Damp Heat” in the spleen or stomach is the most common pattern for gout disease, which is part of the reason why the inflammation in the form of uric acid crystals most commonly sediment in the big toe, at the first metatarsal bone, which happens to be the acupuncture “source point” of the spleen. Poetically painful!

The summer is full of yang energy, whereas the fall is the beginning of yin. Healthy yin is cooling and light – it is that experience of the most perfect New York weather – when the baseball playoffs begin and we can be comfortable outdoors with only a sweater or light jacket. Pathological yin, on the other hand, is heavy and damp. It is sedentary and it is sediment. It sinks, like heavy sludge, either into our stomachs or our joints.

As self-care has improved my body can employ the summer’s healthy yang energy to properly transform body fluids, excrete waste downward and send upward more functional mitochondria to my immune system. In the past I haven’t been so “lucky.” The heat of summer has steamed my body fluids into a pathogenic coagulation that overpowered my weaker yang qi and sunk into the form of arthritis. I’m occasionally able to maintain some sense of humor during milder attacks, recalling one time my brother made a pasta dish with shrimp and mussels, which I had to decline: “I couldn’t. That’ll go straight to my toes.”

This is possibly the best time of year for hot water with lemon and fresh ginger (be sure to simmer the slices of ginger for 10-20 minutes). It is also a great time for breathing exercises or just exercise in general, as autumn corresponds to the lungs, and in Chinese Medicine the lungs are the first in command when it comes to our fluid metabolism and immune function. Limit foods that cause “dampness,” such as sugar and flour, dairy, smoothies and raw salads (unless they are in conjunction with a bigger portion of cooked food and/or ginger tea). Preferable to have more cooked vegetables and small portions of protein, and sadly, this is the time of year to start retiring a bit earlier to bed. 10pm is ideal but before midnight is relatively imperative.

Please don’t hesitate to CONTACT US with questions on how we can support you during this seasonal transition!

Untitled was last modified: by

In Traditional Chinese Medicine different organ channels are vulnerable to different pathologies. For example, the lungs are susceptible to dryness. We must keep them lubricated by drinking enough water, also through healthy water metabolism affected by the oxygen exchange that takes place during exercise or meditation. The spleen (metabolism) is vulnerable to dampness and cold, which is why we discourage excessive consumption of raw foods and/or recommend sipping ginger tea to counteract its effects (the way Japanese pair ginger slices with sushi). The gallbladder is the only organ channel the ancient medical texts label a “curious organ,” for a multitude of reasons, not the least of which being its vulnerability to dampness and heat.

Almost every clinician I know can speak to particular patterns and/or synchronicities with what comes into their door, both literally and figuratively. One week it seems like everyone has right shoulder pain. On another day everyone is asking for herbs to aid with digestion. There are a number of ways to look at this. It very well might be the universe leading us to our calling, guiding us what to learn more about and how to specialize. Another more practical and scientific explanation would be the season we are in. Summer is bound to bring more heat symptoms of inflammation and hyperactivity, while winter more cold symptoms as a result of vasoconstriction or lack of perspiration.

This past month I had two new patients come in with otolaryngology complaints. I also spoke to my sister in Arizona and learned we had both gone to the walk-in clinic in a span of the same week to get wax flushed out of our ear canals that apparently couldn’t handle the job on their own. Coincidence? Obviously not. Besides the genetics we share in common, we are in the midst of a heat wave, the most humid time of year, which will logically exacerbate internally humid climates.

Without getting too graphic, the nature of earwax is not dissimilar to yellow phlegm or arteriosclerosis. Systemic fluid retention over time gets progressively stickier and can attach anywhere. Western medicine tells us (my family) that the reason we occasionally have to get our ears flushed is because we have “narrow ear canals.” But narrow ear canals wouldn’t account for why it occurs at such sporadic intervals and most often during the summer months. Also, if women can squeeze a baby through the birth canal I should think even the narrowest of ear canals could handle metabolizing some wax. I suspect it’s our genetic predisposition to “damp heat.”

Damp heat can show up differently for everyone, depending on our physiological tendencies. Some women will experience hot flashes. Other people will get headaches or just feel lethargic, and either diarrhea or constipation is possible, depending on your diet and constitution. Emotionally, we can see anxiety or temper tantrums, which might partially explain the recent rash of violence around the city.

In Chinese Medicine the gallbladder corresponds with courage, anger and decision-making, and its meridian travels up the side of the leg, through the buttocks and rib cage, then encircles none other than the ear. Can’t make this shit up. Around the same time as my earwax crisis, I began also dealing with some low back pain, a sacroiliac misalignment that was causing pain in my right buttocks. Anything curious going on with my gallbladder at the time?

Well, this all happened to coincide with the first week of me and my wife’s new apartment hunt, finally making the decision to move to Jersey City, and me trying to find the courage to shed my inflexible self-definition of being a New Yorker, to moving five times further away from my brother and best friend, and having to get… wait… deep breath… a New Jersey state license. Oh my God!

I kid… but not really. The entire process, from searching to packing, to planning and moving, is obviously cumbersome. Add to that whatever anxiety I’m wielding around a big change and difference in self-labels, and no wonder my gallbladder (ears) was left vulnerable to this oppressive heat wave.

There is a legend of an old Chinese Medicine doctor who no matter what the patient’s chief complaint or physiological pattern always included one point on the side of the ankle called “Hill Ruins,” or Gallbladder 40. Supposedly he believed that in addition to creating the necessary circulation with the rest of the needles, if he could boost everyone’s courage to make their best life decisions they will have a better life and subsequently better health.

To avoid damp heat pathologies it is important to monitor anger and be brave in our choices. Confer with friends, LISTEN, and be honest with yourself. What stories are just products of your neuroses, like “I’m no longer a New Yorker,” and what stories are real considerations? Of course when such self-awareness is temporarily inaccessible it’s nice to also possess some medical tools to relieve discomfort.

Water with lemon, burdock tea and watermelon are great for this time of year. Nothing acts as a better diuretic than bitter food and drinks, so green tea and bitter, bitter, bitter green vegetables are a must for draining pathogenic fluids. If you dislike bitter, then… well, get over it. Sorry! Add garlic, salt, add onions or whatever you need to, but please develop a palette for the brilliant benefits of bitters: Kale, collard greens, broccoli rabe and mustard greens, ideally all cooked.

Finally, sweat. Exercise! I know the humidity sucks and when it gets up into the 90 degrees it’s important to stay safe, but if you live in a humid climate then nature is requesting you to sweat. Sweating is an activation of the immune system, which if neglected and repressed by a sedentary existence under the air conditioner, actually weakens our immune response, long-term. Why? Fluids that should naturally be perspiring then sink deeper into the tissues, coagulating into arthritic binds that form in either the gastrointestinal or respiratory microbiomes, both of which are most implicated in CoVid-19. If physical limitations prevent you from exercising look to hot baths, foot soaks and gentle physical therapy to begin undoing said limitations. No need to over-do it, but we should all be exercising several times a week… and learn to love bitters!

Untitled was last modified: by

There is a saying amongst acupuncturists: “Going to a western doctor to address a chronic illness is like going to an acupuncturist with a bullet wound.” On one hand, it serves as a diplomatic extension of recognition, that western medicine serves an important purpose. Without things like emergency medicine, heart or brain surgery and (certain) vaccines, who knows where we’d be? Dead, probably. We’d be dead. On the other hand it proclaims what most holistic medicine practitioners hold true: That if it is quality of life one seeks, not only quantity, pharmaceutical medicine is useless at best, harmful at worst.

The western medical thought process, in my opinion, is not the issue, but a symptom (no pun intended) of the root fundamental flaw in how our society thinks in general. We are conditioned to determine significance in the surface of all people and things. For weight loss we staple stomachs. For wrinkles we inject boccilin toxin (brilliant marketing in the re-naming of that one), and for gray hairs we massage chemicals into our scalps.

When someone suffers with chronic pain we give them painkillers, which blocks pain receptors from activating and instead activates opiate transmitters. Within the vacuum of chemistry this is a brilliant creation, unfortunately for the sake of a moronic premise within the greater context. The source of said pain is never addressed.

The same holds true with cholesterol and blood pressure medications and even things like over the counter nasal sprays or topical creams. From a Chinese medical perspective, if someone is congested or expressing rashes it tells us something about the system and/or that fluid metabolism is not operating properly. Sure, we can flush out mucus or stop our skin from itching, but what is causing these symptoms in the first place? To address this requires much more time than writing a prescription.

The holistic treatment process is likened to peeling away layers of an onion, which can take anywhere from a few weeks to a few years, yet another truth that clashes with the western conditionings of impatience and expectation of immediate results (especially when it’s not covered by our insurance!). It also requires more critical thought. A more derogatory saying amongst acupuncturists is: “Western medicine is harder than Eastern medicine in school. Eastern medicine is much harder than Western medicine in practice.”

But it shouldn’t take a rocket scientist (or acupuncturist) to realize the root cause of black suffering, anguish and oppression in our society, right? When you oppress a group for 400 years, then relegate them to the lowest rung of society, you’re bound to engender a number of vicious cycles, psychologically and physiologically that are clearly intertwined, which is to say, you guessed it… holistic.

When someone suffers from Lack of Education we prescribe poorly paying jobs, which brings with it the following side effects:

• • living in poorer, more dangerous neighborhoods

• • lack of resources to afford better quality foods

• • offspring have to attend poorer school systems

• • immersion in an equally uneducated interpersonal climate that may lead to a vicious cycle of ignorance or self-destruction

When someone suffers from Poor Discipline or Lack of Awareness we prescribe neighborhoods full of cheap, fast food and liquor stores, not specifically with the intent to harm, but obviously not to help either. Side effect include:

• • obesity

• • diabetes

• • liver failure

• • cancer

• • mental health issues

Finally, when someone suffers from Illegal Behavior we perform “surgery.” We remove them from society, mindlessly adhering to an archaic rationale that they were supposedly a danger and are better off in a cage with other similar animals. Meanwhile, only a small percentage of prisoners are actually violent and an even small percentage were violent against some complete stranger; which means almost none of these people in cages are a danger. From a Chinese medical perspective, the local scar tissue left by any surgery causes irrevocable harm, as it creates an obstructive, arthritic effect whereby healthy fluids and energy can no longer pass. I’ve personally known people who can recall a loved one going to jail (for a non-violent crime), then coming out and never being the same again.

“Drug dealer” is no one’s first career choice. I used to live in the building on the drug block in my neighborhood, and by all perception they didn’t look like they were much enjoying themselves. For all intents and purposes they worked in retail, pharmaceutical sales, one field more mindless and trite than the other. They worked long hours, late into the night, didn’t appear to have any days off and had to constantly worry about getting arrested. I often wondered how much they made, figuring it could be anywhere from $50-150k per year, neither of which being worth going to jail for. I was making less at the time but I actually felt bad for them, as I prejudged them as likely not having many other options.

No crime should go unaddressed, but locking someone in a cage, simply “cutting them out,” is archaic and mindless. One of my closest friends is a surgeon, and I’ve often heard him say the best surgeons are those who know when not to operate. At the least drug dealers simply need job training, but even better would be some form of education to spark their deepest passions and motivation.

To be honest defunding the police feels reminiscent of symptom-chasing. I know nothing of governmental budgeting, but as a resolution this seems a bit emotional, reactive and misdirected, as all evidence seems to suggest that the police need better training and more qualified applicants. I agree that (much) more money should be funneled into the black community, but should it be at the expense of safety and security, which is frequently needed to protect the innocent majority of the black community? I don’t know.

Although systemic racism is being called an emergency, it is more accurately a chronic condition that should be treated holistically, to understand the underlying pattern behind each sociological pathogen. Longstanding conditions are challenging because the inflammatory catalyst is deep seeded and complicated by a list of medications and poor dietary choices. We cannot address only one of these issues and expect them to heal. In Chinese Medicine we don’t treat only the lungs to heal a pulmonary issue, nor only the stomach for a digestive issue. We treat the whole body in recognition of its interconnectedness. In society we should not simply rob Peter to pay Paul, as this insists on still operating from a western pharmaceutical mindset. Instead, with greater deliberation we should borrow a small amount from Peter as well as several of his friends to pay Paul and several of his friends. This means improvement not only in community rec centers, but also in the quality of public schools, quantity of private schools and private tutoring. It means improvements in public housing, as well as local grocery stores and food options. There is as much scientific evidence of the illnesses caused by fast and processed food as there is by cigarettes, so where are the warning labels on their packages? Why is McDonald’s allowed to permeate the black community with immunity and cause every bit as much long term harm as police brutality does short term harm? We have to think outside the box, more critically, more holistically to effect real change.

Untitled was last modified: by

When patients ask their acupuncturist: “How did you get into this anyway?” I assume they often get the same answer, just as we all got the same answer from most of our peers in Chinese Medical School. We chose to pursue this as practitioners after first experiencing its benefits as patients.

The answer was sometimes different for the Asian students. Maybe one of their close friends or family members was an acupuncturist or they’d grown up around it. For this reason Asian students tended to be younger than the Americans, also generally healthier since their journey to our common destination was less likely by way of victimhood of the typical western diet. While in school I even developed this silly stereotype about Asians that they suffered from no serious health issues, which is especially ironic in consideration of where we were. Surely Chinese Medicine would never have been developed without an original demand for it… in China.

In 2001 I was still an idiot, a typical 23-year old bro, living in a bachelor pad in Chelsea with my typical bro best friends– maybe with the slight exception of at least being native New Yorkers– but bro’s nonetheless. We smoked and drank and ate fast food. Yoga was a four-letter word for us, as was water, so long as it was spoken in Spanish: “agua.”

One night while sitting in the movies with my best friend I was suddenly overcome with a cold sweat, shortness of breath and vicious heart palpitations. I was terrified, but not so much that I would breach bro-contract and actually say anything about it. I’d suffered plenty of bad drug highs that were worse than this and surely could breathe through it without enduring the humiliation of expressing any fear or vulnerability. My chest continued to pound, I continued to sweat and squirm in my seat, briefly wondering if maybe I was suffering some atypical form of heart attack or brain anyeurism, and could I possibly die as a result of this idiotic alpha code? My observation in clinical practice is part of the reason women are more likely to seek treatment than men is because they are generally more comfortable being vulnerable, an indispensable quality to life, also evidenced on the surface as they out-live men partially as a result of getting better and more frequent medical care.

After about 15 minutes the heart palpitations stopped, I regained aspiration and calmed down. My best friend sitting just inches away from me never knew what happened. It’s amazing that I never had more success as an actor.

The next day I sat alone on our front stoop smoking a cigarette. The secret events of the night before were like a distant past memory. I wrote it off as a freak occurrence that I couldn’t explain but also wouldn’t have to confront again. Instead, my thoughts were consumed by worry and anxiety around my present romantic relationship. I’d been dating a new girl for just over a month. I met her at work through her mother, who didn’t approve, which made it all very stressful.

All of a sudden I had a headache.

No, wait, that’s not a headache. I’m not in pain. What is that?

It was more like a head rush. Suddenly, I felt very foggy-headed, a subtle tightness around my temples and a mild dizziness that sort of mimicked a head rush induced by adolescent past times such as sniffing glue or vapors. It didn’t hurt, but it was mighty uncomfortable, not to mention unnerving in consideration of the night before. I put my cigarette out and returned inside, but the sensation stayed with me for the rest of the day. I was able to move around, function normally and interact with people, but it was as if there was a veil between reality and myself. With the exception of a few month periods here and there, this sensation would revisit me every day for the next 11 years.

I went to a few doctors, all of whom spoke to me for all of five minutes before prescribing Paxil or some other drug. I accepted their prescriptions, stuck them in my bottom drawer as if marijuana I was hiding from Mom in high school, and never looked at them again. I didn’t know the first thing about holistic or alternative medicine, but I knew I didn’t want to go the opposite route. I went to Barnes and Noble and bought about ten books about anxiety. I started seeing a therapist weekly, and after a few months I even quit smoking cigarettes (still drinking beer and eating junk, but it was a start).

Finally I came to just accept my anxiety as a part of me. Some weeks were manageable, others were a step or two below crippling, though I made it a point to not allow it to affect my choices or desires. I still went out with friends and pursued my stand-up comedy hobby, only occasionally turning in to sleep early on nights when it was especially bad. When it was absent it felt like the weight of the world had been lifted, my spirits were high and even naïve enough to think it was gone; but it always returned.

Two years later, after a night of drinking copious amounts of beer on the stoop I woke up with excruciating pain in my big toe. It was like nothing I’d ever felt before and couldn’t fathom where it came from. I looked at the wooden bed post and figured I must have banged my foot against it in the middle of the night but somehow not woken up from the injury. Curious.

23-year old bro’s don’t keep many canes lying around the house so I found an umbrella to use as a walking stick and slowly limped the three blocks to the local doctor’s office. When I walked in the receptionist looked at me confused: “It’s raining out?” she asked.

“What? Oh, no, no, it’s beautiful, I just… I needed this to walk here.” I figured this wasn’t the best time to ask for her number.

The doctor spent about the same amount of time with me that my previous Paxil-prescribers had, but in fairness to him this was no mystery.

“Any gout in your family?”

“Gout?” I asked. What the hell is gout?

He could read the confusion on my face. “I’m gonna run a quick blood test, okay?”

“Sure!” Anything that doesn’t require me to walk anywhere is fine.

Gout is considered an autoimmune form of arthritis. It’s a result of the kidneys either not excreting enough uric acid or the body producing too much, and instead it sinks like sediment into the joints, crystallizing into particles that mimic shards of glass and create painfully crippling, local inflammation. It is awful.

A nurse came in, took my blood, and I sat in the waiting room reading my book (since there were no smart phones yet). 20 minutes later they called me back into the office.

“Your uric acid levels are elevated,” the doctor said. “It seems like you have gout.”

Suddenly I was the expression of my Jewish neuroses, my inner George Costanza paralyzed with fear of Lupus and what this could mean for my future.

“What does that mean?”

“You should see if it runs in your family. It usually does. But you definitely want to avoid the red meat and alcohol as much as possible. Eat more cherries,” he advised, as if he were not speaking to a 23-year old dude.

“Cherries?” I thought. “I’ve probably never eaten a cherry in my life, and you want me to quit drinking? When? Now?”

I called my mom to inquire about my family history, but mostly she couldn’t stop laughing at my use of the umbrella and the nurse asking if it had started raining out. “Yes, yes,” she finally got out from beneath her hysterics. “Daddy has gout. He always has. Oh, so does your older brother… I don’t, but yes, you probably do. Sorry, honey.”

For the rest of the day I was depressed, which at least abated any head rush anxiety symptoms I was having at the time. I loved alcohol and hamburgers, almost as much as I hated vegetables and was completely agnostic about cherries. Cherries? I went to my regular Cuban spot to get lunch and instead of my usual pepper steak, rice and beans I ordered steamed vegetables, rice and beans. I brought it home and my roommate looked at me like I was eating another person. It tasted like cardboard and I was miserable. I wondered why this was all was happening? What was wrong with me, and what was wrong with my feet?

My feet, of course!

As a teenager I developed awful eczema on my feet. It was only in the warm weather months and mostly while active, playing soccer or skateboarding, but it was that angry type of eczema: very red, itchy and filled with puss at its worst. Mom brought me to dermatologist after dermatologist, who prescribed cream after cream, but nothing seemed to do the trick. Finally, a doctor at NYU suggested a combination of steroids coupled with a daily foot soak with medical grade soap, and that seemed to do the trick. My rash was gone and finally I could take my socks off around girls. Unfortunately after a few months I developed the most hideous, putrid foot odor that no one I knew had ever experienced before. During the summer times when I was skateboarding my bedroom was viewed as a biohazard, for which entrance was cautioned. We’d open the windows, burn incense and run through cases of baby powder but like the valeted car in Seinfeld, it was an entity, never completely absent from the atmosphere. For an approximate decade to come my feet would alternate between red and itchy or sweaty and smelly, sometimes determined by whether or not I was using my medications, other times less predictably and more frustrating. I hated my feet.

One year after my first gout attack I started dating a vegetarian girl who was in the process of applying to Chinese Medical schools around town. She was smart and different and I was interested in her unique and passionate perspective on things. She claimed all of my conditions were related, with a singular root cause of them all, which to my western mind sounded absurd. She drank water only warm or at room temperature, which I thought was completely absurd. Once early in our relationship I came down with a terrible cold and instead of reaching for my usual, Nyquil or whatever OTC remedies common to laypeople, she insisted I see her herbalist in Chinatown. I acquiesced and came home with four brown bags of what looked like sticks, seeds and shrubbery and instructions on how to cook them into a decoction.

“How do you know what’s in them?” my brother inquired, skeptically.

“I don’t know,” I responded. “Do any of us really understand the contents of Nyquil or Tylenol?” I trusted my girlfriend and figured she wouldn’t lead me into danger.

I drank the disgusting herbs and a few days later I felt better. Sold! A few months later my girlfriend would start Chinese Medical school, conveniently located just five blocks east of our bachelor’s pad. She introduced me to her martial arts class and before I knew it I was really drinking the Kool-Aid – which is to say water without ice in it. Slowly but surely I even accepted vegetables and sobriety as normal parts of life.

After our relationships ended my interest in the holistic healing arts continued to grow. Whenever I had an injury from martial arts class I would go to my local acupuncturist and be cured within a few sessions (of course my muscles were a mere 27 years old and easy to heal). As my hopes of becoming a famous stand-up comedian started dwindling I considered another career to supplement income. I still wanted to do perform, but figured if I needed another job to pay my bills it should be something interesting. With all due respect for different personality types, I knew I’d have no chance of happiness waiting tables or answering phones. I craved a deep dive into something of substance, something academically profound to satiate my mind as well as my rent. I pondered over it for months and finally came to the realization that I wanted to study Chinese Medicine.

I’m not sure who said it first, but a popular cliché in medicine is: You cannot heal others until you first heal yourself. By the end of Chinese Medical school the rash on my feet completely disappeared. I honestly couldn’t even tell you when it happened! One day I looked up and just realized, “I don’t get that anymore.” They still get a bit stinky at the end of long summer days, but no more than those of “normal people” and surely nothing like they were in high school. Instead of my historically annual gout attack that would typically arrive at the end of summer, my attacks now arrive once every five years, and instead of painkillers with a litany of side effects I just have to call in a script of sticks, seeds and shrubbery to cook up and I’m good to go. For years doctors told me because of my strong genetic disposition, I’d have to take gout medication daily for the rest of my life to ward off attacks. Now approaching my mid-40’s I’m still yet to need them.

Anxiety’s been the most difficult – dramatically improved but stubborn to disappear, as it is obviously tied to the fundamental human condition. But I’ve never gone on medication, never had another panic attack, nor compromised my choices in life due to symptoms. Without a shadow of a doubt I attribute all of my physiological growth and transformation, not only to Chinese literal medicine, but even more so to its accompanying dietary and lifestyle recommendations that I’ve followed with perpetually more discipline, and subsequently better results.

It is exciting to watch my patients, also some friends and family age in reverse as they change their habits and mindsets, and their faces and bodies follow. Peoples’ complexions begin to glow, their bodies transform, they get stronger, their stamina is better and they feel happier. My hope in this text is to induce the same wide eyed excitement I felt about Chinese Medicine when I was introduced to it, also to impart the same tools for self-healing that ultimately got me grounded in clean, odor-less feet and truly saved my life, as I shutter at the idea of what my destination would have otherwise been. I am grateful to everyone who has taught me, all of my teachers who have been generous with information, everyone who’s ever put a needle in me, and especially those who allow me to insert needles into them. Although it is impossible to love all of our patients, it’s important to keep in mind that in a society where comfort and medications are the standard, every patient that walks through our door falls somewhere on the spectrum of warrior: Open-minded, courageous and vulnerable with a willingness to experiment outside the box. This is all we that we can ask.

Untitled was last modified: by