Tag Archives: herbal medicine

Pain, poison, and surgery in fouteenth-century China

This is a syndicated post that first appeared at http://recipes.hypotheses.org/9936

By Yi-Li Wu

It’s hard to set a compound fracture when the patient is in so much pain that he won’t let you touch him. For such situations, the Chinese doctor Wei Yilin (1277-1347) recommended giving the patient a dose of “numbing medicine” (ma yao).  This would make him “fall into a stupor,” after which the doctor could carry out the needed surgical procedures: “using a knife to cut open [flesh], or using scissors to cut away the sharp ends of bone.” Numbing medicine was also useful when extracting arrowheads from bones, Wei said, enabling the practitioner to “use iron tongs to pull it out, or use an auger to bore open [the bone] and thus extract it.” More generally, Wei recommended using numbing medicines for all fractures and dislocation, for it would allow the doctor to manipulate the patient’s body at will.

Wei’s preferred numbing medicine was “Wild Aconite Powder” (cao wu san), and he detailed the recipe in his influential compendium, Efficacious Formulas of a Hereditary Medical Family (Shiyi dexiao fang), completed in 1337 and printed by the Imperial Medical Academy of the Yuan dynasty (1271-1368). In his preface, Wei affirmed that medical formulas were the foundation of medicine and that a doctor’s ability to cure depended on his ability to use these tools skillfully. Wei’s family had practiced medicine for five generations, and he synthesized their knowledge with that of other doctors to produce a comprehensive treatise encompassing internal medicine; the diseases of women and children; eye diseases; illnesses of the mouth, teeth, and throat; ulcers and swellings; and diseases caused by invasions of “wind” (ailments with sudden onset, including febrile epidemics and paralytic strokes). Numbing medicine appeared in Wei’s chapters on bone setting and weapon wounds.

Wei’s Wild Aconite Powder is the earliest datable recipe that I have found for surgical anesthesia in a Chinese text, and it is a valuable window onto practices that were largely transmitted orally, whether in medical families or from master to disciple.  Dynastic histories relate that the legendary doctor Hua Tuo (110-207) employed a formula called mafeisan  to render his patients insensible prior to cutting them, even opening up their abdomens to excise rotting flesh and noxious accumulations. Some scholars have hypothesized that mafeisan (literally “hemp-boil-powder) may have contained morphine or cannabis (ma), but its ingredients remain a mystery.  A text attributed to the twelfth-century physician Dou Cai (ca. 1146) recommended using a mixture of powdered cannabis and datura flowers (shan qie zi, also called man tuo luo hua) to put patients to sleep prior to moxibustion treatments, which in this text could involve a hundred or more cones of burning mugwort placed directly on the patient’s skin.  Wei Yilin’s recipe provides important additional textual evidence for a tradition of anesthetic formulas based on toxic plants, one that was clearly in circulation long before he wrote it down.

At least as far back as the Divine Farmer’s Classic of Materia Medica(3rd c.), medical authors had described aconite as highly toxic (for contemporary Roman views of aconite, see blogpost by Molly Jones-Lewis). In the right hands, however, aconite was a powerful drug, and part of the Chinese practice of using poisons to cure (see blogpost by Yan Liu).  Warm and acrid, aconite could drive out pathogenic wind and cold from the body, break up stagnant accumulations, and invigorate the body’s vitalities. In the language of Chinese yin-yang cosmology, it nourished yang—all that was active, heating, external, and ascending. The main aconite root was considered more toxic than the subsidiary roots (designated by the separate name fu zi, “appended offspring”), and the wild form was more potent than the cultivated variety.

Images of toxic medicinal plants from China’s most celebrated pharmacological work, Li Shizhen (1518-93), Compendium of Materia Medica (author’s preface dated 1590). Woodblock edition of 1603. Wild aconite is the middle image in the top row. Cultivated aconite (main and subsidiary roots) are in the bottom right corner. Image credit: National Library of China. Posted on-line at the World Digital Library.
Images of toxic medicinal plants from China’s most celebrated pharmacological work, Li Shizhen (1518-93), Compendium of Materia Medica (author’s preface dated 1590). Woodblock edition of 1603. Wild aconite is the middle image in the top row. Cultivated aconite (main and subsidiary roots) are in the bottom right corner. Image credit: National Library of China. Posted on-line at the World Digital Library.

Wei’s numbing recipe consisted of 13 plant ingredients, including the main roots of both wild and cultivated (Sichuanese) aconite, along with drugs known as good for treating wounds:

Young fruit of the honey locust (zhu yao zao jiao)
Momordica seeds (mu bie zi)
Tripterygium (zi jin pi)
Dahurian angelica (bai zhi)
Pinellia (ban xia)
Lindera (wu yao)
Sichuanese lovage (chuan xiong)
Aralia (tu dang gui)
Sichuanese aconite (chuan wu)
Five taels each[1]

Star anise (bo shang hui xiang)
“Sit-grasp” plant (zuo ru), simmered in wine until hot
Wild aconite (cao wu)
Two taels each

Costus (mu xiang), three mace

Combine the above ingredients. Without pre-roasting, make into a powder. In all cases of crushed or broken or dislocated bones, use two mace, mixed into high quality red liquor.

Wei most likely learned this formula from his great-uncle Zimei, a specialist in bonesetting and wounds. Its local origins are also suggested by its use of zuo ru, literally “sit-grasp”, a toxic plant whose botanical identity is unclear. However, according to the eighteenth-century Gazetteer of Jiangxi (Jiangxi tong zhi), sit-grasp was native to Jiangxi, Wei’s home province, and was used by indigenes to treat injuries from blows and falls.  While classical pharmacology focused on the curative effects of aconite, Wei’s anesthetic relied on aconite’s ability to stupefy and numb, while curbing its ability to kill. If an initial dose failed to make the patient go under, Wei said, the doctor could carefully administer additional doses of wild aconite, sit-grasp herb and the datura flower.

Additional images of toxic medicinal plants from Li Shizhen, Compendium of Materia Medica. Sit-grasp herb is in the middle of the top row, and datura flower in the middle of the bottom. Image credit: National Library of China. Posted on-line at the World Digital Library.
Additional images of toxic medicinal plants from Li Shizhen, Compendium of Materia Medica. Sit-grasp herb is in the middle of the top row, and datura flower in the middle of the bottom. Image credit: National Library of China. Posted on-line at the World Digital Library.

In subsequent centuries, as medical texts proliferated, we find additional examples of numbing medicines that employed aconite, datura, and other toxic plants, employed when setting bones and draining abscesses, and to numb injured flesh before repairing tears and lacerations to ears, noses, lips, and scrotums.  Such manual and surgical therapies are an integral part of the history of healing in China.

Yi-Li Wu is a Center Associate of the Lieberthal-Rogel Center for Chinese Studies at the University of Michigan, Ann Arbor (US) and an affiliated researcher of EASTmedicine, University of Westminster, London (UK).  She earned a Ph.D. in history from Yale University and was previously a history professor at Albion College (USA) for 13 years.  Her publications include Reproducing Women: Medicine, Metaphor, and Childbirth in Late Imperial China (University of California Press, 2010) and articles on medical illustration, forensic medicine, and Chinese views of Western anatomical science.  She is currently completing a book on the history of wound medicine in China.

Acknowledgements
This research was funded by the Wellcome Trust Medical Humanities Award “Beyond Tradition: Ways of Knowing and Styles of Practice in East Asian Medicines, 1000 to the present” (097918/Z/11/Z). I am also grateful to Lorraine Wilcox for directing me to the work of Dou Cai.

*****

[1] The weight of the tael (Ch. liang) has varied over time, but during Wei’s lifetime would have been equivalent to 40 grams.  A mace (Ch. qian) is one-tenth of a tael.

Memorizing Formulae

Memorizing formulae is something no herbalist can avoid. One sometimes hears people say that memorization is unnecessary, you can just look up a formula in a book when you need it. This is somewhat like saying that memorizing vocabulary isn’t necessary when learning a foreign language, you can just look it up in a dictionary when you need it. An effective herbalist must speak the language of herbs fluently and be able to construct new sentences (formulae) on the fly to adapt to changing circumstances.

In my own studies recently I’ve been reviewing formulae that I use so infrequently it’s hard to remember their ingredients. I thought it might be interesting to share some of the methods I’ve used to memorize formulas. None of these are new by any means, but I’ve found them very helpful over the years.

IMG_2350

This one, Xianfang huoming yin (仙方活命飲, Immortal-Formula Life-Saving Beverage), is the representative formula for the dispersing method (xiaofa 消法) used in treating the early stages of welling abscesses (yong 癰). Historically it’s been highly respected, but I haven’t had call to use it myself (though I do get to use Wuwei xiaodu yin 五味消毒飲, Five Flavor Toxin-Dispersing Beverage, on occasion).

The notes hand-written in the text is my mnemonic. This is one of my favorite ways to remember longer formulas that don’t break down into neatly analyzable divisions. I make a rhymed verse from the names of the herbs. I thought I’d share this one for fun.

In pinyin it goes (I’ve made one change since this photo was taken):

Yin, zao, hua, fang, zhi, gan, bei./Chen, mo, ru, jia, chi, guiwei.

Which means:

Jinyinhua, zaojiaoci, tianhuafen, fangfeng, baizhi, gancao, beimu./Chenpi, moxiang, ruxiang, chuanshanjia, chishao, dangguiwei.

Part of how I make this work for me is by grouping the herbs roughly by function (when the rhyme allows it). So the first three (jinyinhua, zaojiaoci, tianhuafen) are all herbs that address the toxic swelling rather directly (I could have put chuanshanjia in this group too, but it didn’t fit). The second four (fangfeng, baizhi, gancao, beimu) are a more loose group that assists with that function. The second line is all movers, starting with one qi mover (chenpi) and finishing with a whole mess of blood movers (moxiang, ruxiang, chuanshanjia, chishao, dangguiwei).

I’m very oral-aural–and I’ve always loved poetry–so that’s probably partially why this works well for me. But I’ve been shocked at how well it works. I’ve remembered some of these rhymes for years without using the formula or reviewing the rhyme.

IMG_2386

I find that some formulae, however, can be easily divided into parts based on the function of the herbs. So in the example above I’ve broken down Hao-qin qingdan tang (蒿芩清膽湯, Sweet Wormwood and Scutellaria Gallbladder-Clearing Decoction) into four pairs of herbs:

Qinghao and huangqin: The  lords of the formula that clear gallbladder damp-heat. Qinghao is the source for the artemisinin malaria medicines that earned Tu Youyou the nobel prize recently. From a Chinese medicine point of view it has the useful ability to clear heat that is hidden inside dampness in the same way the ashes of a fire can look cold but still hide glowing-hot embers.

Banxia and zhuru: These two herbs resolve phlegm and stop vomiting–a common symptom in this formula’s pattern.

Chenpi and zhike: This pair move the qi, which is often obstructed by dampness leading to problems like glomus in the epigastrium.

Fuling and Biyu san: This pair is a bit of a cheat since the second member is actually a small formula containing huashi, sheng gancao, and qingdai. Nevertheless, that’s how the formula is usually written. Both these ingredients disinhibit the urine, draining dampness downward and out of the body.

Finally, there are formulae that belong to formula families. These are best understood by understanding the family’s basic structure and how each formula is a modification of that structure. Generally speaking, there are four basic ways in which the basic structure of a formula family can be modified: adding ingredients, removing ingredients, replacing ingredients, and adjusting the dosage of ingredients.

The Guizhi tang 桂枝湯 family provides good examples of all three of these methods. The basic structure of the this family is the formula Guizhi tang itself (guizhi, shaoyao, zhi gancao, shengjiang, dazao), which is built from three formula elements (small formulae of one to four ingredients that act as the building blocs of larger formulae):

guizhi + zhi gan cao: This combo supplements the yang–particularly of the heart and spleen–and the defense (wei 衛). On its own, it is a formula called Guizhi gancao tang 桂枝甘草汤 used to warm and supplement the heart yang. It embodies the principle “acrid and sweet produce yang (xin-gan hua yang 辛甘化陽).”

shaoyao + zhi gancao: These two herbs together nourish the yin-blood–especially of the liver–and construction (ying 營). As a formula it is called Shaoyao gancao tang 芍藥甘草湯. It emobides the principle “sour and sweet produce yin (suan-gan hua yin 酸甘化陰).”

zhi gancao + shengjiang + dazao: This combination is frequently used by Zhang Zhongjing 張仲景 and serves to protect and nourish the stomach. It is particularly important in Guizhi tang because this formula acts primarily through the spleen and stomach–hence the saying that it “releases the flesh (jieji 解肌).”

The first Guizhi tang modification seen in the Shanghan lun (傷寒論, Treatise on Cold Damage) is an example of adding ingredients: Guizhi jia fuzi tang (桂枝加附子湯, Cinnamon Twig Decoction with Aconite Accessory Root Added). In this formula, fuzi is added to more strongly supplement the defense yang. It is used when a patient’s defense yang is weak or damaged by improper promotion of sweating.

The second modification of Guizhi tang in the Shanghan lun is a classic example of removing an ingredient: Guizhi qu shaoyao tang (桂枝去芍藥湯, Cinnamon Twig Decoction with Peony Root Removed). In this formula, the removal of shaoyao removes the second, yin-nourishing, formula element. This results in a formula that more strongly emphasizes warming and supplementing the heart yang. In the Shanghan lun it is used when incorrect purging damages the heart yang, allowing a cold evil to fall into the heart, but the Guizhi tang pattern persists.

The third modification of Guizhi tang is an example of replacement (or removal and addition, same difference in this case): Guizhi qu shaoyao jia fuzi tang (桂枝去芍藥加附子湯, Cinnamon Twig Decoction with Peony Root Removed and Aconite Accessory Root Added). Here fuzi is added to the previous formula, increasing yet further its ability to warm and supplement the heart yang. It is used in the same patterns as the previous formula, but when stronger cold is present.

Not all examples of replacement can also be described as removal and addition. The Ma-Xing family is an excellent example. This family has three representatives in the works of Zhang Zhongjing: Mahuang tang (麻黄汤, Ephedra Decoction), Mahuang xingren gancao shigao tang (麻黄杏仁甘草石膏汤, Ephedra, Apricot Kernel, Licorice, and Gypsum Decoction), and Mahuang xingren yiyiren gancao tang (麻黄杏仁薏苡甘草汤, Ephedra, Apricot Kernel, Job’s Tears, and Licorice Decoction). All three formulas contain the core two ingredients of the family–mahuang and xingren–as well as gancao, but by replacing the third ingredient and adjusting the doses of the remaining ingredients very different formulae are produced.

To return to Guizhi tang, one of its most famous modifications is an excellent example of how altering dosage can produce new formulae: Guizhi jia shaoyao tang (桂枝加芍药汤, Cinnamon Twig Decoction with Additional Peony Root). In this formula the dosage of shaoyao is doubled. This greatly increases the strength of the shaoyao + zhi gancao formula element, allowing the formula to more effectively soothe the liver and the sinews, treating the cramping pain that often accompanies diarrhea (in this case a taiyin-spleen vacuity diarrhea).

Understanding how the formulae of a family are related to one another–how they are constructed and modified–makes remembering their ingredients far simpler. Many such formula families exist in Chinese medicine, and understanding them is a key method of formula memorization.

All herbalists, whether just starting to learn or with many years of experience, have to keep memorizing and reviewing formulae. It’s just part of the process of being a good herbalist. Many people find memorization difficult, but everyone is capable of tremendous feats of memory–it’s part of our human skill set. We just have to learn how to use that capacity. These three methods have been very useful for me, and I hope that others may find them useful as well.

Impressions of the SHEN NONG BEN CAO JING

This is a syndicated post, which originally appeared at Blog – Happy Goat ProductionsView original post.

IMPRESSIONS of the  神農本草經 SHEN NONG BEN CAO JING
By Z’ev Rosenberg, L. Ac.

I often tell people that I started practicing Chinese medicine before it was a profession in the West, back in the early 1980’s!  I never thought that it would be a vocation that could make a living, and looking back from the present, the growth has been explosive, but in many ways, not what I and others of that generation of practitioners (the first in the U.S.) thought it would be.

The profession, unfortunately called ‘acupuncture’, a modality, instead of Chinese or East Asian medicine, has been struggling in its direction forward, with many different points of view from total biomedicalization, to integrative medicine, to a return to a more ‘classical’ approach.

One of the main problems has been the precedents that were set four decades ago, in schools and licensure.  With a limited base of knowledge, a lack of reliable translations of important Asian medical texts, and a lack of connection with Asian schools and authoritative physicians, the profession had to ‘grow up in public’, and figure it out as we went along.  It was like building a house or apartment building without a solid foundation, so that as the building grew upwards, it became more unstable.

Without training the minds of students and new practitioners in the actual logic, methodology, language and culture of Chinese/East Asian medicine, it is human nature to fill those gaps with biomedical/’scientific’ thinking, and to seek other modalities such as Western nutrition, naturopathy, functional medicine, Western orthopedics, and supplements.  Further compounding the problem is the small percentage of our profession who have been trained in or practice internal/’herbal’ medicine, apparently less than ten percent.  Students also do not realize that what is called ‘Traditional Chinese Medicine’ is a synthesis of the twentieth century in China designed to create a complimentary health care and college training system to Western medicine, where illnesses and treatment strategies are often correlated to Western diseases, rather than traditional categories.

So what is one answer to this conundrum?  It is to reestablish the roots of the Chinese/Asian medical field, by embracing its core principles. 理論 Li lun/principle and theory are foundation of all fields and scientific endeavors, and it is the principles of Chinese medicine (yin/yang, five phases, channel theory, along with the principles of medicinals (flavor, qi, direction, combination and preparation) that must be mastered and understood in order to properly practice Chinese/Asian medicine.

Fortunately, we are now in an era where the core medical texts, the Han dynasty medical classics, are being released in definitive, clear versions with more accurate terminology.  This trend began with the release in the 1990’s of the Practical Dictionary of Chinese Medicine, with several thousand technical terms, now available in expanded form in such iOS and Android apps as Pleco, along with many other Chinese/English dictionaries, books for learning medical Chinese, and courses.  Along with the availability of studying medical Chinese language, many Western practitioners now go to China, Taiwan and Japan to study authentic forms of the medicine.  In the last few years, we have seen the 傷寒論 Shang han lun, 金匱要略 Jin gui yao lue (translated by Sabine), 素問 Su wen, and soon the 靈樞 Ling shu and an updated 難經 Nan jing from Paul Unschuld.

At the same time, study programs in 古方 gu fang/’ancient prescriptions’ from such teachers as Huang Huang, Arnaud Versluys, and Suzanne Robideux are now available, along with classical acupuncture and moxabustion courses by such teachers as Lorraine Wilcox (who has translated or edited several acupuncture classics), Ed Neal, and David White.

The most recent addition to our ‘embarrassment of riches’ in English translation is Sabine Wilm’s latest work, 神農本草經 Shen nong ben cao jing/The Divine Farmer’s Classic of Materia Medica.  With the publication of this work, a complete set of Han dynasty medical classics is now available for the serious student and practitioner. What is special about this translation, and text, can be summed up in the word ‘core’.  It is the earliest compilation of the internal medicine tradition, including 365 herbs, minerals and animal parts divided into three categories, 上藥 shang yao/superior/upper medicinals, 中藥 zhong yao/middle-grade medicinals, and下藥 xia yao/lower (inferior) medicinals.  What is quite interesting about this classification is that the medicinals that are the least 毒 du toxic/imbalanced are in the superior category, suitable for 養生 yang sheng/nourishing life, supplementing qi, blood and 精 jing/essence, and maintaining health and longevity.  The middle and inferior categories contain more ‘medicinally active’ herbs that must be combined with other medicinals to balance their extremes or reduce toxicity and side effects, and are more suitable for treating illnesses.  This reminds us that the vast system of Chinese/Asian medicine in its foundation is about preserving, nurturing and maintaining health, and only secondarily about treating disease.  As it says in the preface to book one, ‘Upper Medicinals’, “The upper-level medicinals consist of 120 types. These function as rulers. They are in charge of nurturing 命 ming/destiny and thereby correspond to Heaven. They are non-toxic and (even) when taken in large quantities or over a long time, do not harm the person. If you want to lighten the body, boost qi, avoid aging, and extend your lifespan, root your prescriptions in the upper (section of the) Classic.”  Section two discusses the fundamental rules of combining medicinals into formulas, in their mutual relationships, as “rulers, vassals, assistants, and messengers”.  Section three of the preface discusses the flavors of the medicinals, harvesting, processing, delivery systems (pills, powders, decoctions) and preparation of the medicinals.  The remaining sections (four through seven) cover dosages, categories of illness, and diagnostics.

Happy Goat Productions has produced this book in a physician’s desk-friendly format, compact, easy to carry and access, and with clear, readable fonts. The woodcuts and drawings that illustrate the text are a delight as well.  For those of us who are practicing wild-crafters or gardeners, or ‘whose hands are constantly busy with herbs’, the simple, precise discussions of the 365 medicinals is a sheer delight, and constant inspiration.

What would I recommend for future editions?  Sabine had a monumental job putting together this text, it was no walk in the park.  In fact, it was often written in a cabin warmed by a wood-burning stove, in the howling frigid winds that blow down the Columbia gorge from the east in the wintertime.  But I’d personally love to see commentaries on the text in an expanded edition, along with more numerous illustrations.  Otherwise, this text should be on every herbalist’s desk, and would also serve as an excellent introduction to herbal medicine for acupuncture/ ’moxabustionists’ as well.  I’m looking forward to taking the Shen nong ben cao jing into the forests, as I commune with the plants and minerals in the fields.  Or as Zhuangzi once said, ‘cloud hidden, whereabouts unknown’.

Z’ev Rosenberg, 醫生 yi sheng,
San Diego, Ca., Spring 2016, year of the fire monkey