The Three Epidemics I Have Experienced

Today is the sixth day of the Lunar New Year, which should normally be a bustling day. Yet the Chinese people are consciously staying at home to fight the novel coronavirus. This spirit deserves the world’s admiration.

In 2003, when I was in the first year of junior high school, an infectious disease called SARS suddenly broke out. I vaguely remember that General Secretary Hu Jintao had just taken office at the time. The TV broadcast news about the fight against SARS every day. Several packets of traditional Chinese medicine appeared at home, with a strong mint fragrance, though I never actually drank any of it. What impressed me most was having to wear a thick, hot, and cumbersome double-layer cotton mask every day while cycling to and from school, only taking it off once I reached the classroom. At that time, there were almost no classes for a month, but we still had to go to school for self-study. Looking back now, I realize how fast technology has advanced.

In 2009, I was in my second year of college. I had just finished military training at the end of August and completed dormitory registration in September when bird flu broke out across the country. No one handed out masks back then, and I don’t recall wearing one much. What I do remember is that every time I entered the campus, someone would point an infrared thermometer gun at my forehead. The school emptied out several buildings in Liye Park and converted them into quarantine facilities. Anyone with fever symptoms had to be isolated for a week.

As fate would have it, my neighbor Xiaolong came down with a fever of 38.5°C right around that time. I went to check on him and found a slippery, rapid pulse with a yellow-coated, red tongue body bearing small prickles. I immediately performed Gua Sha (scraping therapy) along his Dazhui point and the Du vessel. After about twenty minutes of scraping, he felt a strong urge to defecate. Once he did, he felt refreshed all over. Two hours later, his temperature was back to normal. However, Brother Long is an honest fellow—he reported the situation truthfully to the counselor and went into quarantine for a week. The school treated quarantined students very well: everyone received a phone card and three free nutritious meals a day. Life in quarantine was actually quite comfortable.

A few days later, a handsome young man in the same dormitory also developed a fever, presenting with typical symptoms such as aversion to cold, fever, cough, and a floating, rapid pulse. At that time, none of us wanted to be quarantined, so I prescribed him a large dose of Ge Gen Tang (Kudzu Root Decoction) plus 30 grams of Qian Hu (Peucedanum). Not long after drinking the medicine, he began to sweat while his body temperature continued to climb. After he woke from a nap, the sweating subsided and his body cooled. The symptoms disappeared, leaving only a feeling of weakness. After that, none of us ran a fever again, and the epidemic was lifted following the National Day holiday.

I still remember that in 2009, the school distributed prepared Chinese medicine decoctions to every student. The first batch was conventionally boiled, while the second was made by extraction. The color and taste of the extracted herbal liquid were noticeably different from the boiled version. I didn’t dare drink it, so I used it to mop the floor instead.

According to data released by the government at the end of 2009, that bird flu epidemic caused approximately 120,000 confirmed cases nationwide, while the United States reported around 20 million infections. Yet at the time, I didn’t feel that the epidemic had much impact on people’s daily lives. Perhaps it was because Tamiflu was effective against H1N1…

What affected me more personally was a severe wave of influenza in early 2019—entire families were coming down with it. During a morning outpatient session in January, I saw eight or nine patients with colds and fevers. When I returned in the afternoon, I started feeling unwell and developed a fever that very night. This experience gave me a firsthand understanding of the dangers of occupational exposure and the importance of wearing masks. As a practitioner of Chinese medicine, I have always firmly believed in the principle that “when upright qi resides within, pathogenic factors cannot invade.” But when you can use a mask to protect that upright qi, why wouldn’t you?

The current novel coronavirus epidemic is spreading rapidly, and the government’s response has been strong and decisive. Yet it seems that no one is distributing Chinese medicine this time. History has proven time and again that in the face of unknown diseases, in addition to scientific prevention and control, the timely intervention of traditional Chinese medicine is crucial. Rather than waiting for self-recovery, it is better to treat with Chinese medicine. I believe the frontline will deliver a satisfactory outcome.

中文原文 / Chinese Original