"I Don't Care About My 'Wind' and My 'Fire,' Just Give Me the #!*%ing Herbs!"
An update on our experience with Traditional Chinese Medicine. Plus, am I "simple" while Michael is "very complicated"?
For the audio version of this article, read by the author, go here.
Not long ago, I wrote about how, since we’re in Asia, Michael and I decided to experiment with using Traditional Chinese Medicine to treat two of our longtime chronic health issues: an intense itching on my left arm due an allergic reaction to a Covid vaccine four years ago, and Michael’s insomnia.
When we were living in Taipei, Taiwan, we visited a doctor of Traditional Chinese Medicine near our apartment, and he gave us both different assortments of herbs to take mixed with water, twice a day.
And it worked.
After four weeks of taking those herbs, the itching on my arm had completely disappeared, and while Michael’s sleep problems weren’t completely gone, they were noticeably better.
How do I know it was the herbs that cured our problems?
Because when we stopped taking them, both our $#%*ing problems came back!
Since we’d left Taipei and were now living in Hong Kong, we decided to visit another doctor of Traditional Chinese Medicine in that city.
Michael went first by himself — my itching had returned, but I had high hopes that it might eventually disappear again. Michael found a doctor near our apartment, but he only gave Michael three days’ worth of herbs, to see if a different assortment might work even better.
It actually worked less well, and by now, I’d decided I needed more herbs too, so he and I soon returned to the doctor’s office together.
Our Taipei doctor had been adorably dorky, and this doctor was quite handsome — and neither of them was anything remotely like the stereotypical image of Chinese doctors I kinda sorta had in my mind as a result of racist portrayals in old American movies.
“You really need to stop making that joke,” Michael said, after I’d told it to him for about the twenty-eighth time.
We saw the doctor together, and he asked what we needed help with.
“I met with you last week,” Michael said, “and I’m back to tell you that the new herbs you gave me didn’t work.”
The doctor looked at Michael, confused. “You haven’t come in here before.”
“Sure, I have. You gave me these herbs?” He showed the doctor the printout he’d been given before with a description of the herbs written in Chinese.
The doctor looked it over and shook his head. “This isn’t me. This is a doctor one block over.”
And I thought, I may be telling the same stupid joke over and over, but at least I didn’t mistakenly think two completely different Chinese doctors were the same person! Who’s the racist now, Bucko?!
(In fairness to Michael, both doctors were wearing face masks during the examinations. But I’m still not passing up the chance to tease him about it!)
After that, the doctor asked me what my problem was, and I gave him my whole story: how I’d had the allergic reaction to the Pfizer vaccine back in 2021, the crazy itching had lasted for a whole goddamn year, but it had eventually gone away — only to weirdly come back earlier this year.
My Taipei doctor had listened and immediately given me the recommended herbs, but this guy asked me a long list of questions, probing me on my diet and sleeping habits, and also my “digestion” situation.
Then he examined me, looking at my tongue and feeling the pulse on both wrists for an unusually long time.
“Those herbs you took before did a good job of balancing your ‘wind,’ which is causing the itching,” he said, “but they didn’t deal with the underlying problem, which is about your ‘fire.’”
And I confess, I thought: I don’t give a damn about my ‘wind’ and my ‘fire,’ just give me my #!*%ing herbs!
Although in fairness to the doctor, his terminology was more in keeping with the racist stereotype I’d kinda sorta expected.
The doctor explained that this time around, we would do one set of herbs twice a day for one week to get my “wind” back in balance, and then we would do a second set for two weeks once a day, to balance my “fire.”
Which was all well and good, except the price he then quoted me for the examination and three weeks of herbs was $240 USD — $180 more than what three examinations and six weeks of herbs had cost me in Taipei.
Entitlement is a funny thing, isn’t it? And it comes up a lot as a digital nomad traveling the world, because prices for the exact same things vary so dramatically depending on what country you’re in.
But mostly I was thinking: Who cares about the price? I HAVE MY MAGIC HERBS AGAIN!
And hey, I was probably being too dismissive about this “wind” and “fire” stuff. The herbs had worked — at least for a time. Maybe this was simply Traditional Chinese Medicine terminology for the way the human body works.
After the doctor had finished with me, he turned to Michael, who gave him a rundown of his experience with insomnia and how the herbs had definitely helped, offering him a much sounder sleep. But he still had good nights and bad.
The doctor quizzed Michael on his overall health and then listened to the pulse in both his wrists for an unusually long time too.
“Your left and right energies are out of balance,” he said. “This is why you’re having problems sleeping.”
“Can you help him?” I asked.
“It is difficult. You are simple. But Michael here is very complicated.”
The doctor’s English wasn’t perfect, and I knew he meant that our problems were simple and very complicated, respectively.
Or, more specifically, that Michael is high maintenance.
And if you thought I was going to have fun teasing Michael about thinking two different Chinese doctors were the same person, I figured I could have an absolute field day with this “very complicated” thing.
The doctor explained that we could return to the original herbs that had worked better for him, but also that Michael should do some specific things — namely, tai chi and also exercise his legs, all of which would rebalance his energies.
“And you should try to sleep like a baby,” he went on. “By that, I mean you should sleep whenever you are tired, for as long as you want. Night or day, it does not matter.”
This was the exact opposite advice Michael had gotten from his Western doctors, who had repeatedly advised him to regulate his sleeping, even tightly restricting it in hopes that would make him more tired when he finally went to bed.
Sleeping like a baby is interesting advice, I thought. But I wondered how it would work for anyone except a digital nomad, since most people’s schedules aren’t like babies, and they can’t simply go to bed whenever they feel sleepy.
This all happened a month ago, and Michael and I have now both run out of herbs again.
Unfortunately, without the herbs, Michael’s sleep is back to being mostly bad again. He occasionally acts like a baby, but he hasn’t had any luck sleeping like one.
I kid!
He also plans to take an online course in tai chi, and when we’re back in America in January, we’re going to try to find supplements with the specific herbs that the doctors gave Michael, but only as an occasional option. After all, these herbs are clearly powerful stuff.
As for me, the itching in my arm is gone again. Who knows? Maybe it really was my “fire” issue. That said, I can sometimes feel something stirring inside me, like how that guy has a demon trapped inside him at the end of the old Diablo videogame.
Which means that when we’re back in America, I’ll also be trying to find an herbal supplement of my own, for occasional use too.
Which also means that maybe I’m not so simple after all — that I might even be exactly as high maintenance as Michael.
But do me a favor. Don’t tell him I said that, okay?
Brent Hartinger is a screenwriter and author. Check out my new newsletter about my books and movies at www.BrentHartinger.com. And order my latest book, below.
