Ayurvedic Medicine- A visit to the Doctor

          A week has passed since I completed the UltraSimple diet detoxification.  I have gained back five of the twelve pounds I lost, and as a result, my clothes are no longer hanging off me.  Now, it is time to give Ayurvedic medicine a try.  I may be jumping from the frying pan into the fire.  Nevertheless, I manage to carve out a couple of hours from my busy work schedule to see the Ayurvedic doctor for an initial consultation.  Ayurveda sounds like pure Asheville.  If you know Asheville, you know that it is a town of cool retro-spots, good restaurants, and home of all things alternative.  I expect the Ayurveda center will be located downtown in a trendy area, but no, it is located in a modern office space on Hendersonville Road.  Imagine big box stores, Bennigans, excessive signage, and traffic congestion and you have Hendersonville Road - the least appealing area of Asheville.  Surprisingly the Ayurvedic center is not the only alternative option in this area.  The very same office building also houses an integrative medicine clinic - just one more sign that alternative medicine has gone mainstream.

            I expect this visit might be expensive.  I harken back to my visit to the Naturopath:  the initial consultation cost over $100 yet paled in comparison to the cost of the recommended herbs and homeopathic remedies. Blue Cross and Shield is not taken here.  I know that herbal remedies are a big part of Ayurveda.  I can only imagine the price tag.  Herbs purchased in a grocery store are expensive enough, but import them from India and prescribe them as a remedy, and I am sure the cost skyrockets.  We will see.

            I enter the Ayurveda center, and no one is there to greet me.  I can tell by the Indian pictures on the wall, the dim lights, and the wicker furniture that I am in the right place.  A sign on a table says someone will be out shortly.  I take a seat and try to channel my inner Buddha.  That is me - Mister Low Key, not in a hurry.  In truth, I am analyzing everything.  I can only aspire to be Type B.  Fifteen minutes after my consultation is scheduled to begin, a customer emerges from the back room followed by Jesus. Not actually Jesus, but certainly a reasonable modern-day imitation. The doctor has long hair pulled back into a pony tail, a loose fitting shirt, jeans, and no shoes.  He is clearly in his element.  He is Asheville while I am just an imposter. He invites me to the back room.  We sit across from one another in two upright chairs.  His office combines modernity with Ancient India. There is a table top with a computer, books, and his scribblings juxtaposed with pictures of India, a waist-high, golden, elephant Buddha, and shelves stocked with large jars of crushed herbs.  This is a far cry from the sterile dispensary with which I am familiar.

            After casually introducing himself, the doctor launches into the usual questions that begin any visit:  “What brings you here?”  “What do you hope to gain?”  He then begins a fairly detailed inquisition into my dietary habits, lifestyle, and my general constitution.  I am expecting this line of questioning.  Of course, what he really wants to discover is my dosha.  Should I save him the effort and just blurt out that “I am a Pitta.”  I suppress the urge and answer his questions faithfully.  “Yes, I sweat a lot. No, I am not prone to constipation. In fact, I have frequent loose stools.  Yes, I would describe myself as high stress.  I suffer from insomnia, heartburn, and headaches.”  These last two admissions pique his interest.  He does not seem surprised that I get heartburn.  He asks further questions to better define my headaches - “How frequent are they? What triggers them?  How do you relieve them?”

            Next, he takes a very detailed history of my dietary habits.  I tell him about the cleanse that I just recently completed, and he nods approvingly.  In fact, I think the cleanse has stolen much of his thunder.  He recommends avoiding empty sweets - done, caffeine -done, processed foods -done.  I am becoming worried.  It appears that if I follow his dietary recommendations, the cleanse, which I am so relieved is over, will live on minus the dreaded UltraBroth.  Fortunately, he doesn’t mention cutting out alcohol.  I am not sure if this is an oversight, but I don’t ask.  I can drink my evening glass of wine or beer.  Hallelujah!

            Now that history taking is completed, we come to the physical examination.  Where will he probe? What bodily samples will I have to produce?  He pulls up his chair until we are directly across from one another, and our knees are nearly touching.  He places a square pillow as a bridge across our laps.  First he stares deeply into my eyes.  Then, he has me stick out my tongue while he studies its furrows and ridges.  I wonder if the cleft I have from biting through my tongue as an infant gives him any insight.  Then, he has me place my arms on the pillows, and he uses three fingers to check the pulses on both my wrists.  Apparently, he is much more adept at reading one’s pulse than me.  I remember reading about Ayurvedic doctors being able to appreciate three components of one’s pulse and thereby being able to derive inferences regarding overall well-being.  After a few more seconds of pulse reading, he is done.  The exam is done. No urine or blood sample required.

            He declares my constitution is Pitta.  I am amazed.  He also says my “imbalanced state” is also Pitta, but with a bit of Vata.  Now that my dosha is revealed, he can tailor a specific therapeutic plan for me.

            First, he returns his focus to my diet.  We spend extensive time going over foods I should avoid and foods I should load up on.  He encourages me to double my water intake to two liters a day.  (It seems that every discipline, including western medicine, is convinced that we are continually at risk for dehydration).  I am to avoid drinking milk in close proximity to when I drink orange juice.  Most of his dietary recommendations are fairly standard - avoid processed foods and increase my intake of natural fruits and veggies.

            He says that Pittas have a lot of heat; therefore, I need to avoid heat producing foods which will only feed my fire.  He is pleased by my frequent bowel movements, but remains concerned about my headaches and heartburn.  He says heartburn is a symptom rather than a disease itself.  When I express an openness to try herbal remedies, he smiles.  He leaps up, stares at his shelves, and contemplates out loud which jars hold the right herbs for me.  He grabs a zip lock baggie and starts adding a scoop or two of various herbal powders.  After a few moments of indecision, followed by a few clarifying questions regarding my sleep habits and bowel movements, he completes the herbal concoction and hands me the bag. He tells me to take two teaspoons twice daily mixed with hot water. 

            The visit is coming to an end.  He suggests I contact him via email in a week or two to report on my progress and possibly to schedule a visit to the Ayruvedic day spa for an Abhynanga (warm oil message) or perhaps a Shirodhara (Ayurvedic Bliss Therapy).  He says these treatments are part of the process to restore balance and promote relaxation.  The next question - cash or credit card?  Alas, my bliss is coming to an end.  The total bill is $150 for the consultation and a mere $20 for the herbs.  Compared to my naturopathic visit, I feel like I am making out like a bandit.