Self‑Care—How to Deal with Bloating?
I love looking good and taking photos—it really shows you the truth. On my recent trip to Sabah, I felt so bloated that my face looked puffy and my stomach stuck out. The pictures didn’t lie: bad skin, big belly! While I was away there wasn’t much I could do beyond a quick fix, but once I got home, I knew exactly how to set things right.
First, let’s talk about why I get bloated:
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Qi Deficiency and Blood Stasis
I have a constitution that’s prone to qi deficiency and blood stagnation. If I don’t pay attention before my period, I end up with lower‑back aches and irritability. Without enough qi, blood can’t flow smoothly, and I need extra energy to keep my cycle on schedule—especially since my travels often coincide with the end of the month. Packing, organizing, and stress make me more tired, deepen the qi deficiency, and sure enough, my period got delayed and my mood went haywire. -
Air Travel & High Altitudes
Every time I fly or go up to high elevations, I bloat. Years ago, on a trip to Daocheng, packaging for things like egg‑tarts would puff up so much we could hear the plastic burst at 4,000–5,000 meters. Even my face wash bottle would weep liquid. I realized my middle burner (digestion) and the meridians around my lower back and abdomen aren’t flowing well. When the cabin’s thin air or altitude hits, it traps gas, and I bloat. -
Cold & Air Conditioning
Airports and airplanes blast the AC. I always wear long sleeves and pants to stay warm—if you get chilled, your qi and blood slow down even more. This flight was supposed to be three hours, but weather delays kept us on the tarmac for three hours before takeoff. Then Sabah’s runway lights were out, so we diverted, waited for repairs, then finally landed. I spent over ten hours in the cold, losing far more heat and energy than I’d expected.
On top of that, my pre‑period backache signaled damp‑cold and stasis in my Governing Vessel. Damp‑cold stagnation only worsens bloating. A good release—whether by passing gas or having a bowel movement—brings instant relief, so catching it early is key.
That first night I didn’t get to the hotel until after midnight and fell asleep around 2:40 AM, feeling off but too tired to do anything. At 6:30 AM my husband rose for the sunrise by the shore—I was wide awake, frustrated, and knew my qi and blood were stuck. Sure enough, by breakfast my belly was rock hard. Eating takes energy, so I rummaged for the moxa sticks I’d packed, but couldn’t find a single match in our huge suite. I dashed down to breakfast—delicious buffet, of course—and sure enough, my stomach bulged. I called the front desk for matches, lit a portable moxa stick on the balcony, and treated my lower back. When your abdomen is distended, your back pain doubles, so I focused on easing the ache first. After thirty minutes of moxibustion I felt much better, grabbed my camera, and went off to see the proboscis monkeys that afternoon. That little energy boost felt like putting a charge into a dying battery.
We couldn’t change the schedule—the trip was set—so I knew I had to step up the moxibustion even more that night. Day 2’s plan was snorkeling in cold sea water and wind on a speedboat—conditions that would have floored me last time in Thailand. If my body stayed cold, I’d end up dizzy and nauseated. Sure enough, by 9 PM I was back in the hotel, ready to fire up more moxa. I strapped one stick to Dazhui (GV 14) and another to Mingmen (GV 4), careful to keep smoke minimal around the sprinkler heads by my air‑conditioner, so I stuck to the portable moxa. I soaked in a hot shower first to drive off some cold, then gave my back a good session before bed. Wrapped in my robe with moxa warming my points, I slept through till 6 AM—best night’s sleep I’d had on the trip.
On Day 3, I finally went snorkeling. Gliding over coral and bright fish, even touching a blue starfish, was magical. My son pointed out a jellyfish—scary but thrilling. Snorkeling gave my back some sun, which felt wonderful. By the third dip I’d drifted far from the boat—had to holler to my husband to pull me in! My back tanned like two‑tone leather: the part in the sun dark, the rest pale. I managed the whole outing without discomfort, though my stomach still gurgled each time I ate. I skipped photos that day—my bloated belly just looked awful.
Bloating alone would be manageable, but combo’d with mood swings and sleepless worry, things get messy. I bit my tongue instead of nagging my husband or son when I got cranky—better to let them off the hook. Day 4 was free time; I snapped a few shots, then resumed moxa and napped to recover. I ate heartily at each meal but avoided cold drinks, and whenever I could, I let the sun warm my back.
That night I moxibusted again before bed and slept soundly. On Day 5, I dressed warmly for the return flight—thick pants and a shawl—to protect my legs and feet after a long shopping detour through a freezing mall. Moxa soothed my soreness and kept me cozy until we landed safely.
Back home, the sweltering heat means no AC by day, and I can do moxa in my wooden box on my lower back—pure bliss. A few sessions and my period returned; the bloating and discomfort vanished.
Bloating isn’t catastrophic, but if I don’t address it quickly, I lose my appetite, breathe shallowly, and spiral into sleepless panic. Fortunately, I now know my self‑care routine: warm moxibustion to recharge energy and clear meridians. When you’re away from home—new environments, unexpected events, extra fatigue—it takes a bit longer to catch up. But with moxa in my carry‑on, I never miss a beat.
In the end, my trip went off without a hitch—and I kept a good attitude, even on the rough days. By Day 4 I was back to enjoying sunshine on the beach, waving at friendly boat crews, and flashing a bright smile—because moxibustion kept me strong, inside and out.