Medicine of the Land

This week, while dismantling our family home of seven years in pursuit of some wild new adventures, I found myself gripped by discomfort as I attempted to separate myself from the healing tools I have grown so attached to.

My herbal medicines, cups, needles and diagnostic equipment have been my safety net for the last few years, fueling my confidence at my ability to both keep my family safe and healthy and help others when they are in need. So often, as alternative medicine practitioners we see people who are at the end of their options with western medicine. In the midst of a pandemic, I understand that my lifestyle practices and the cultivation of a healthy, functional body were my best tools to fight any illness. Specifically, the herbal medicine I studied for five years has some very powerful aides in treating epidemic respiratory illness and so I have assuaged my anxiety with the understanding that I have tools and am not powerless in this situation.

Cut to the complete breakdown of any semblance of routine, much less healthy lifestyle choices; weeks of take out as the kitchen slowly becomes less functional and the people expected to cook become more occupied; late nights packing and uncomfortable, ever changing sleeping arrangements. All in a ramp up to an international journey of over 24 hrs with two children and way too much luggage.

We knew we’d have rest on the other end as we were expected to safely self-quarantine for 14 days on arrival and the promise of that blessed peace was sometimes all that kept up going. So as we arrived and slowly unwound ourselves from the frenzy of transition, one by one we began to fall ill. Nothing serious or alarming, just the first signs: a little chill (change in climate), extra fatigue (long travel), a “close that window” feeling and then a bit of a throat. So, I bust out my trusty Chinese herbs and tools and set to work.

Except…the sleep didn’t bring sweat and the throat didn’t go away and sure, in my discombobulation I may have missed the window or misread the signs but underneath it all I could feel my body craving something and so I turned to my western herbs, my elecampane, mullein and plantain. I maintained and tweaked my Chinese prescription too (I’m an impatient patient) and began to improve.

We like to joke in TCM that “when you have a cold it’ll last about 7 days or, you could take these herbs and it’ll last about 7 days but you might not feel so bad”. In truth I do feel that TCM is better at preventing a cold and treating phlegm gone wild than it is at actually stopping that initial uncomfortable 3-4 days of upper respiratory illness after its begun. There is a window whereby we may be able to stop the train, but once its left the station, you’re in it and our treatment principles change from stopping the train to making the train get as efficiently and safely as possible to the next station.

So, here I was in a new land, suffering in the 3-4 days of exploding sinuses and fat tire throats and I heard the land calling to me and I was soothed by the western herbal medicine of my pied-a-terre and was reminded of the why: to learn the language of this land and reconnect to its healing forces.

I am grateful to our quarantine period for allowing us to safely stretch our immune systems after living in a bubble for the last five months and will be equally grateful when it is lifted and we can begin the process of our purpose: to acquire knowledge, pursue balance and share with our community.

Oh, and clearly the lingering germanic DNA in the girls and I is gonna have to catch up to the hale stock of my gael husband who was the only one unaffected…figures.