Like most people born and raised under the western health care umbrella, I grew up having no familiarity with the life style of natural medicine or preventive medicine, much less the holistic-health care model of Oriental Medicine--classical or otherwise. My idea of prevention comes from my childhood experiences of painful vaccinations and an ear infection every Fall until I was six. There was nothing sacred about medicine; it was a job which allowed our single mother, a Registered Nurse, to pay the rent and keep the cupboards half full. Its pattern was simple: it was the doctor's cold invasion, the white-walled office, hands that smelled rubbed with alcohol, the pallid eyes, the otoscope pushed too far into the canal of my raging ear; the ear infection confirmed, antibiotics, then feeling better in a day or two. It's difficult to differentiate your body from yourself at such an early age. How do you not misinterpret each illness as a personal attack on your character? Why should I endure these pains alone, I would think, when my sister--my twin, no less--had the privilege of sleeping through every October undisturbed. Why was there no devil's finger digging in her ear? What made my body's relationship with this evil bacterium so different from hers? By the sixth year my eustachian tubes had made their natural course downward, forward, medially and the seasonal infections were gone. Our visits with the doctor also disappeared and I stopped with my jealous introspections. For the next seven years we would not visit a doctor unless we really had to, that is if what ailed us could not be fixed at home--but what could not a mother cure? Between the chamomile teas and ibuprofen we came to understand that the body would just take care of itself. Our mother never got sick. All her years helping the sick and dying in nursing homes, emergency rooms and eventually neonatal intensive care units the one thing she "contracted" and then communicated to my sister and me was that the body is a very capable machine.
Three years ago, however, I learned that my capable machine had been confronted by the stresses on my inconsistent lifestyle of a young man in graduate art school. Suddenly one afternoon I began to suffer from a dry, burning that affected the middle of my back, my right arm (including the axillary) and right pectoral. A week later when this burning progressed into painful blisters, and while my wife and I were traveling to Arlington, Texas for a wedding, the diagnosed was made clear: I had shingles. I asked the tending physician how this could have happened. My hygiene was very important to me, I told her, and I didn't eat greasy foods. My ignorance was showing. It is not impossible but it is rare for some one in their late twenties to suffer the effects of the herpes zoster virus. My immune system had been compromised and stress was the most likely culprit. The diagnosis came too late for the antiviral to have been effective, so it was not prescribed. My body would have to carry on as before for the next four to six weeks with no outside assistance except moderate doses of a prescribed painkiller "when needed" which only made me nauseous. I mention this occurrence in my life not because it then introduced me to the powers of Oriental Medicine or to my current OM practitioner, but because it was then that I realized I had been neglecting that trinity of mind, body and spirit and that there were consequences to this delinquency. This machine is only capable as long as we work with it towards its wellness. Since the shingles outbreak I've been exercising regularly, trying to eat seasonally, engaging in talk therapy once a week and visiting with my OM practitioner when ever I can and reading all I can get my hands on regarding the theory, the science and practice of OM and bioscience. Technology and the Western medical model can guarantee a longer life, but if we do not come to understand the body's fluid relationship with the mind and spirit and the relationship we share with our environment (for better or worse), and if we do not practice and regulate these teachings, how can we expect to maintain balance thereby ensuring a richer quality of life to accompany that longevity?
Like most people born and raised under the western health care umbrella, I grew up having no familiarity with the life style of natural medicine or preventive medicine, much less the holistic-health care model of Oriental Medicine--classical or otherwise. My idea of prevention comes from my childhood experiences of painful vaccinations and an ear infection every Fall until I was six. There was nothing sacred about medicine; it was a job which allowed our single mother, a Registered Nurse, to pay the rent and keep the cupboards half full. Its pattern was simple: it was the doctor's cold invasion, the white-walled office, hands that smelled rubbed with alcohol, the pallid eyes, the otoscope pushed too far into the canal of my raging ear; the ear infection confirmed, antibiotics, then feeling better in a day or two. It's difficult to differentiate your body from yourself at such an early age. How do you not misinterpret each illness as a personal attack on your character? Why should I endure these pains alone, I would think, when my sister--my twin, no less--had the privilege of sleeping through every October undisturbed. Why was there no devil's finger digging in her ear? What made my body's relationship with this evil bacterium so different from hers? By the sixth year my eustachian tubes had made their natural course downward, forward, medially and the seasonal infections were gone. Our visits with the doctor also disappeared and I stopped with my jealous introspections. For the next seven years we would not visit a doctor unless we really had to, that is if what ailed us could not be fixed at home--but what could not a mother cure? Between the chamomile teas and ibuprofen we came to understand that the body would just take care of itself. Our mother never got sick. All her years helping the sick and dying in nursing homes, emergency rooms and eventually neonatal intensive care units the one thing she "contracted" and then communicated to my sister and me was that the body is a very capable machine.
Three years ago, however, I learned that my capable machine had been confronted by the stresses on my inconsistent lifestyle of a young man in graduate art school. Suddenly one afternoon I began to suffer from a dry, burning that affected the middle of my back, my right arm (including the axillary) and right pectoral. A week later when this burning progressed into painful blisters, and while my wife and I were traveling to Arlington, Texas for a wedding, the diagnosed was made clear: I had shingles. I asked the tending physician how this could have happened. My hygiene was very important to me, I told her, and I didn't eat greasy foods. My ignorance was showing. It is not impossible but it is rare for some one in their late twenties to suffer the effects of the herpes zoster virus. My immune system had been compromised and stress was the most likely culprit. The diagnosis came too late for the antiviral to have been effective, so it was not prescribed. My body would have to carry on as before for the next four to six weeks with no outside assistance except moderate doses of a prescribed painkiller "when needed" which only made me nauseous. I mention this occurrence in my life not because it then introduced me to the powers of Oriental Medicine or to my current OM practitioner, but because it was then that I realized I had been neglecting that trinity of mind, body and spirit and that there were consequences to this delinquency. This machine is only capable as long as we work with it towards its wellness. Since the shingles outbreak I've been exercising regularly, trying to eat seasonally, engaging in talk therapy once a week and visiting with my OM practitioner when ever I can and reading all I can get my hands on regarding the theory, the science and practice of OM and bioscience. Technology and the Western medical model can guarantee a longer life, but if we do not come to understand the body's fluid relationship with the mind and spirit and the relationship we share with our environment (for better or worse), and if we do not practice and regulate these teachings, how can we expect to maintain balance thereby ensuring a richer quality of life to accompany that longevity?
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