Wellness
By Rose Simpson
Photos by Scott Troyer
For years, I have suffered from acute pain in my left knee for which my doctor prescribed Advil and ice. I’ve also seen physiotherapists, chiropractors and personal trainers. I’ve even tried wearing a patella strap to ease the pain but found it was nothing but a nuisance.
My friend Rick Logan suggested I try acupuncture and gave me the address of the Sino Acupuncture Clinic in Ottawa, where Zhaoqi Guo has been practicing the art of Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM) for many decades.
“The man is a genius,” Rick said. “He’s been treating cabinet ministers and mayors for years.”
Guo’s clinic is in a tiny white house across from an arena near the Civic Hospital. There are no fancy windows or signs, just a tidy screened porch filled with exotic bonsai trees and plastic shoes. Guo’s wife serves as the gatekeeper sitting behind a desk with a landline and a couple of binders that she uses to check in patients. There is no computer in sight.
The acupuncturist greets patients, even new ones like me, as if they are long lost relatives.
“Hello, my friend!” he says, smiling behind a mask. Everyone is addressed in the same way; there are no names, everyone is a friend here.
After I fill out a questionnaire detailing my past medical conditions, Guo asks me to open my mouth, to inspect my tongue.
“Do you know your tongue is purple?”
Hmm. I forgot to tell him about my red wine habit.
He guides me into a large exam room occupied by patients separated only by thin white curtains. I pass by a tray filled with acupuncture needles, and egg timers. After a quick but thorough exam, Guo proclaims that my left knee isn’t the culprit at all. It is the other side of me that is causing all the grief—that and degenerating discs in my back. (This condition is later confirmed by a chiropractor.)
He then pokes acupuncture needles into my legs, back and feet. After an hour, the egg timer sounds and I stand up. I am instructed to return two days later. After just a few treatments, I can flex my knee—for the first time in years. For bonus points, Guo also treats my arthritic middle finger.
Many of Guo’s patients come to him as a last resort after other medical practitioners have given up on them. He has successfully treated everything from end-stage cancer to macular degeneration to ear infections in babies. I meet patients who have travelled from Toronto and Vancouver for pain control. I have even met some who claim he has reversed conditions that are considered untreatable.
Some medical practitioners scoff at Traditional Chinese Medicine, which uses herbs, acupuncture and other ancient remedies. They prefer to cut, scan and prescribe during billable hours instead.
But more people are embracing TCM, especially now that it has been recognized as a regulated profession under the College of Traditional Chinese Medicine Practitioners of Ontario. TCM is also now covered by private medical insurance.
Over many conversations, I discover Zhaoqi Guo is no ordinary acupuncturist. Back in his native China, he was a medical doctor who specialized in endocrinology. His work has been published in many journals, and he has presented papers at medical conferences around the world. He has also served as a visiting professor of TCM at Ottawa University and has 50 years of experience in his field relying on practices that are more than 5,000 years old.
Every one of his patients is a walking testimonial.
One day I met a family physician suffering from end-stage cirrhosis who sought relief from severe back pain. For months he had been in agony and felt modern medicine had nothing to offer him.
“I feel fine now,” he said. “I can’t believe how badly I was treated by my own colleagues.”
An acupuncture session takes about an hour so there is lots of time to talk to other patients. It’s also impossible not to hear about everybody’s ailments since we are a mere sea of humanity separated only by white curtains. In some ways, the Sino clinic is like a beauty parlor where everyone seems to know each other and happily swap stories.
I met a woman with stage-four oral cancer who reminded me of my friend who died from the same disease years ago. Jennette’s final journey took place in a blur of strong medication and vodka. This woman prefers to ease her pain holistically.
Aside from a little discomfort, mostly caused by laying still for an hour, acupuncture is relatively painless. In fact, many of Guo’s patients are so relaxed they fall asleep and start snoring.
Each day after my own treatments, I rushed home to tell my husband how great I felt. I finally wore him down and he agreed to go in for the treatment of several ailments.
“How was it?” I asked as we sat together for happy hour.
“I can feel my toes,” he said. “I haven’t felt my toes in years.”
“Anything else?”
He showed me his hand which had always had a sebaceous cyst under his third finger. The cyst was a quarter of the size it was before treatment.
Now, I am not a doctor or a medical expert. I cannot give you scientific data or show you reports about the success of acupuncture in English language medical journals. All I know is, after many treatments, I have new hope that I will walk the golf course again or maybe even play tennis.
Like the hundreds of others whom Guo has treated, he has given me hope when traditional medicine offered me none.
The Sino Acupuncture Clinic is located at 152 Bayview Station Road.
