Chinese traditional medicine did nothing for my psoriasis. But it was my mother's love language
CBC
This First Person article is written by Kerry Yang, a first-year medical student in Calgary. For more information about First Person stories, see the FAQ.
When the plaques started appearing on my knees in Grade 1, my mom thought it came from all the kneeling I did on the carpet during reading time.
"Aiya! You need to stop kneeling," she would tell me in Mandarin. "It's bad for your knees."
Soon, I was the only one sitting in my class and it was isolating, but I trusted her.
That was not the first time her well-intentioned advice caused more harm than good.
As the months passed, my plaques got thicker, redder, scalier and, worst of all, itchier. They started appearing on my elbows as well, and my mom took me to a doctor.
"It's something called psoriasis," the doctor told us. "You can't cure it. It's lifelong. You can only manage it."
My mom stood up in disbelief. "What do you mean it can't be cured?"
The doctor tried to explain: the psoriasis is from my immune system being overactive and causing inflammation that makes skin cells multiply too quickly.
But my mom cut him off.
"What's the point of medicine if you can't cure something?"
The conversation went downhill from there. Eventually, the doctor prescribed hydrocortisone cream (a weak steroid medication) and told us to come back if it didn't improve.
The cream didn't help. My mom took this as confirmation that Western medicine didn't work, and decided I should use Chinese herbs for my psoriasis.
My mom and I have a complex relationship. It's not close in the way some of my Canadian peers experience closeness. She values independence, so even when she was home from her rotations working in the oilsands, my sister and I walked home from school. I watched with jealousy as our classmates got picked up.
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