I’m feeling so defeated and frustrated today!
Around 3 a.m., I woke up to what sounded like someone groaning in pain—it felt like a nightmare, but it wasn’t. My husband was in so much pain from a stomachache that he woke me up. I was deep asleep and totally confused about what was happening. He wanted to go to the hospital right away, but I told him it was almost dawn, our son Yangyang had to get up for school, and if we both left now, there’d be no one at home. I suggested doing some moxibustion to ease the pain and see if he could hang on until about 7 a.m. He agreed.
So I lit up a six-column moxibustion box and placed it on the area where it hurt. At first, he was still in pain and kept groaning. After about 40 minutes, the moxa burned out, so I lit a new one and continued. I treated both his abdomen and his back. About ten or fifteen minutes into the second round, he stopped making any noise. Turned out he had fallen asleep. I was also exhausted, trying to stay awake was hard—I eventually dozed off next to him.
Barely had I fallen asleep when the alarm went off—it was past 6 a.m., time for Yangyang to get ready for school. So there was no chance of sleeping any more. After getting everything in order, we went to the hospital to figure out what was going on. By then, my husband said the pain had mostly subsided, just a dull ache. No other symptoms. He suspected it might be kidney stones—he had been told he had them during a previous checkup.
Anyway, we had to go and get it looked at. And of course, just our luck—the water supply was cut off that morning, so neither of us could even wash our face before heading out. After the doctor examined him, they ordered a blood test and an ultrasound. After an hour or two of running around, it was confirmed—kidney stones. One had made its way into the ureter. The doctor prescribed an IV drip and a week of medication to help pass the stone.
While he was getting the IV, I said, “I’ve already prepared chicken gizzard lining powder and gold coin grass for you—aren’t you going to take them?” And what did he say? “That powder tastes horrible. I’m not taking it! You’re just using me as a guinea pig!” I was beyond furious. A guinea pig? Honestly, being my test subject is an honor!
By lunchtime, I really didn’t feel like cooking, so we grabbed something outside. I ordered some Cantonese herbal soups that are good for clearing damp heat. The herbs had a strong smell, but I didn’t mind. He took a sip of his, pushed it away and said, “You drink it. It’s awful.” Then he tried mine, made a face again, and shoved it back to me too. In the end, I drank both. Honestly, he’s even more spoiled and childish than Yangyang.
Thinking about all the suffering I’ve endured just to get my own health back on track, those soups were nothing. I’ve had pus coming out of my skin—I couldn’t care less about how something tastes. If it’s good for me, I’ll do it, I’ll try it.
He’s gotten used to me experimenting on myself. He won’t let me do gua sha on Yangyang either—he can’t even handle the sight of the marks it leaves. And after all that moxibustion this morning, instead of saying it helped relieve his pain, all he could comment on was, “Why is the skin on my stomach red?”
Fine. Whatever. Think what you want. It really hurts when your good intentions get thrown back in your face.