Meeting Master Zhao

By Dick McCullough

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I have been suffering from a bad back for ten months and counting.  Ten months of pain when I sit in a chair, when I stand, when I drive, when I sleep.  Ten months of chiropractors, acupuncturists, physical therapists, physiatrists, cortisone injections.  And recently, neurosurgeons.

But I can deal with all that.  What really gets me is ten months without playing hockey.  Now, that’s insufferable.  So I’m faced with a choice: have surgery or visit Master Zhao.  No other options left.  Surgery is general anesthetic, at least one night in the hospital and a week or two in bed.  Plus weeks, if not months, of rehab.

Hello, Master Zhao.

Master Zhao is apparently a very famous Chi Gong practitioner from Beijing.  I’ve never heard of him.  But I’ve never heard of Chi Gong, either.  My friend Jon, a seemingly normal Jewish guy from Philly, is big into Eastern stuff like Feng Shui, Yoga and Chi Gong (I think this must be all the rage in Connecticut).  So Master Zhao comes to me highly recommended by way of Jon, my advisor in all things Eastern and/or mystical.  And being desperate to get back on the ice as soon as possible, I come to Master Zhao.

Master Zhao’s office is located in a light industrial/R&D park buried deep in a middle class California suburb, under the sign “MZI, Inc.”  Why a Chi Gong master from Beijing has put up shop in the heart of white bread America, I don’t know.  But when it comes to Chi Gong, there is nothing that I do know.

As I walk through the front door, Master Zhao is in the reception area at the water fountain.  He is short, trim, old, and looks like an advert for JCPenney’s clothes.  He speaks no English.  His secretary translates for him.  What am I doing here?

He motions me into a small room with two twin beds and tells me, via both vigorous pantomime and his secretary, to take off my shoes, leave on my socks and lie down on a bed.  I do.

He stands over me, staring down at me for a few seconds.  He starts talking in Chinese, his secretary translates.  He talks directly to me, as if I understood any of his babbling.  She leaves the room to answer the phone.  He continues talking to me, making exaggerated pantomime gestures and smiling aggressively in my direction.  I’m starting to fear for my safety.

I have never mentioned to either of them what my reason for seeing him is.  They never asked.  He now tells me I have a problem in my stomach that causes me to rush to the bathroom whenever I eat (I think I would notice this one, don’t you?), my throat is often scratchy (true), I urinate too frequently (how often is too frequently?).  I have a bad lower back, specifically at the L4-L5 joint and I have shooting pains that run down my right leg (Johnny, we’ve got a winner!   Tell him what he’s won, Johnny). 

He also says I have an irregular heart beat (true) that is not a big problem now but will be later if I don’t take care of it (Is he selling something?).  I have bad kidneys that are tender to the touch (true), make me tired (I am tired a lot) and reduce my sexual strength (he smiles as he points first to his kidneys and then to his crotch).  I have an old injury in my left knee and left ankle (who doesn’t?).  I have something wrong with the back of my head (I didn’t quite get that part and the secretary seemed to find it difficult to translate).  My shoulders and neck are very tight (duh). 

Final score:  hits - 10, misses - 1, ties - 2.  Maybe there is something to this Chi Gong thing, after all.

He hasn’t even touched me yet.  His diagnosis has taken less than two minutes.  I lay there hearing all this, trying to find the trick, like listening to the psychics on the television commercials.  I know it’s phony but how do they pull the con?  I can’t figure his angle.

He says he has treated many patients with bad backs and helped many people avoid surgery.  Despite my natural cynicism, I get hopeful.  He says I should not drink so much coffee or eat so much pork.  I should never, ever ice my aching back.  I shouldn’t drink anything cold.  No pork?  Is he crazy?

Through his assistant, he tells me that he is going to remove the bad chi from my body and that I will feel a cold wind against the bottom of my feet.  He stands over me, waving his arms above my body like he was sweeping a floor or scaring away flies, always pushing the air above me from the top of my head down towards my feet.  Both my feet really do feel cold on the bottom like there is a cold wind blowing on them.  After a few minutes (Master Zhao continually sweeping the air above me) only my right foot feels cold.

He smiles at me constantly.  He says in English “don’t worry.”  He gives me the thumbs up sign.  I lie there thinking I must be in an indie film or maybe Candid Camera.  A cross between Yan Can Cook and General Hospital, with a dash of Dudley Do-Right.  And English subtitles.

Master Zhao says I will be healed in a few treatments.  If I want to be permanently healed, never to have a back problem again, I need to practice Chi Gong meditation.  I say I’ve never been good at meditation because I cannot calm down enough to clear my mind.  Master Zhao says that’s ok.  With Chi Gong meditation, you don’t have to calm down or clear your mind.

What a crock.  My left brain is yelling at my right.  An Asian Oral Roberts is selling me snake oil.

Master Zhao does not seem worried.  He just smiles at me and gives the thumbs up.

So what do I do?  I book an appointment for next Monday.  I can’t wait.

Author's note: Picking a Chi Gong master to heal your unhealable ills is a lot like picking snowflakes.  No two are exactly alike.  So personal recommendations are probably your best bet.  Trial and error is inevitable.  But remember, Chi Gong masters have been healing people for over 3,000 years.  If you don’t feel comfortable with the first practitioner you meet, try another one.  To learn more about the healing powers of Chi Gong or to find a Chi Gong master near you, visit http://www.nqa.org/ (National Qigong Association) or http://www.qigonginstitute.org (Qigong Institute).

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