So Hot

My mom took me to the Chinese herbal doctor yesterday. We sat on the cold metal chairs for two hours until we realized that we could see a less popular doctor and be admitted in the next minute. Deliberately picking lower ranking doctors was probably not the best strategy, but I suppose this was at least a somewhat calculated decision as opposed to my usual practice of picking the ones with the best sounding names.

We lifted the half bed sheet curtain and peered inside. The doctor waved us in and motioned for us to sit on the rickety chairs facing her. She gestured for me to put my right arm on the arm cushion and clamped it down with her three middle fingers.

"Oh, is that a painting of the Suzhou canals?"

"Shhh."

She bent her head down a little as if to hear my pulse better.

"Does your waist feel sore?"

I shook my head emphatically.

"Do your breasts feel enlarged?"

"If only."

She shot me a look.

"Sorry."

"I know what is wrong with you. You're generally healthy but you suffer from hot blood."

I looked at my mom with a questioning look. My mom nodded studiously.

"So what does that mean? Like the weather being too hot? "

"No, it just means that your blood is too hot. Too much yang. No more mangoes, fried foods, or hot pots. Come back in two weeks."

Resigned, I grabbed the doctor's note and headed to the medicine room. I didn't bother looking at the prescription, preferring not to know what (sea horse? scorpion? dung?) would be in the bitter concoction I would have to drink twice a day for the next two weeks. I was praying for the milder roots and maybe even the occasional insect, but I had always kept my hopes conservative when it came to Chinese medicine.

Ugh. Hot blood.