Doctor treats from the heart.
Doctor treats from the heart.
I came in with a lot of pain, stiffness, and lack of energy. Within a few minutes of treatment the pain become less and by the end of my session I had no pain, improved mobility and energy level. Dr. Moree always takes great care to see me instantly upon arrival takes the needed time to treat me and I never feel rushed and all my questions are always addressed.
Dr. Moyee has a calming profession kind manner that instills confidence and warmth. I feel at ease during treatment and always leave Feeling calm, attended to, and more functioning. She is a real healer! Everyone on staff is kind, professional, and makes you feel welcome.
After a relatively minor foot injury I developed plantar fasciitis and Achilles tendonitis in my right foot and ankle. I am not sure of the etiology of the disease because there were many factors and many false diagnoses along this nightmare route that saw me continue to lose mobility in my foot and then leg, and ever-increasing and continuous freezing/burning pain, dystrophy and then twisting of my right lower leg. Finally, a local physician with contacts at Stanford suggested that I really needed more sophisticated diagnostic help. In my first visit at Stanford Medical Center I saw the head of Orthopedic surgery who immediately recognized my problem as RSD (Reflex Sympathetic Dystrophy). Oddly, (and terribly), a previous X-ray taken locally had listed RSD as a possible diagnosis, but it was overlooked or I was never told by the ordering physician and so lost a food bit of time and went through much emotional trauma, as doctor after doctor gave me false diagnoses or gave up on me. In that X-ray, the toes of my right foot (which had never been injured) already showed quite sever bone loss which along with other signs, by current diagnostic standards, meant that I was in Stage 2 to Stage 3 of RSD.
Unfortunately, by that point the bone loss in my right foot was so severe that I was advised by Stanford physicians to not pursue their treatment protocol of steroid shots to the affected nerve roots in the spine because such high doses could further weaken my bones and entire foot might collapse and I would lose the foot. They did however suggest acupuncture. I immediately started up with traditional acupuncture and begin to have some relief of pain but no much, if any improvement in mobility.
As fate would have it, Dr. Ming Qing Zhu had just arrived from China to teach at an acupuncture school in Santa Cruz, where I was living, and I began to see him. I stress that with the bone loss and the duration-severity of the disease it took sometime and many treatment to heal my foot and leg, but I noticed results almost immediately. His acupuncture was very different and very powerful.
The most dramatic and amazing result was my mental outlook changed within a few weeks. RSD can affect the CNS (thinking, decision making) and entirely exhaust the body. In my case, the symptoms left me anxious, depressed, cloudy headed and with only the energy (honestly) to get from my bed to a sofa once per day and then back to bed at the end of the day. I had been, at the time, a graduate student at UC Berkeley and was trying to finish my degree but that had become out of the question. I could barely feed myself and it was getting worse.
Amazing, after starting to “work” with Dr. Zhu (and he requires you to put in some effort) and sometime before my bones healed enough (which they eventually did!) for me to put much pressure on them, my energy levels started to increase, my depression started to lift and my mind started to clear. A month into it and I actually found myself designing a table using a computer program that I could use to research and write (my legs had to be up constantly or they would swell and stiffen terribly) and I sent the plans to my father who constructed the table and sent it back to me as a pre-fab kit.
I have to say that it was a struggle. I knew from a traditional physical therapist I finally found to work with me that her work with RSD patients was often difficult because they could not work through the pain. I even did Tai Chi “classes”, which is to say I stood propped up against at wall at first, with Sifu Jaime Marquez (then a student of Dr. Zhu). I had lived with constant dread of falling and by that point had zero balance. Combining Dr. Zhu’s treatments and exercises with Jaime’s instruction lead to incredibly dramatic increases in balance.
The results, in the end were phenomenal. Eventually, I finished my dissertation and was award my Ph.D at UC Berkeley. My walking improved steadily, though it took time. I had been unable to move and even hardly able to use a wheelchair. But since then I have, for example, spent eight hours tramping around the ruins of Pompeii in Italy and had many other adventures, and I walk and hike regularly. I doubt that any of this, any notion for a normal life or a job in my field, would have been possible had I not met Dr. Zhu at the right time and trusted his methods.
Professor of German and French Language and Literature
Recommendation posted on FaceBook
There is no organization that does acupuncture that is better than they are. They are devoted to their patients and give the best care possible.
Anyone who has ever been into care-giving can understand the stress and frustration involved. Insomnia has been my major problem and I have found relief in rehab clinic along with Jack.
The gentle, soft spoken, always pleasant and very efficient Dr. Moyee Siu has changed my life. Now in these trying times I find I can finally get much needed sleep.
I highly recommend this doctor’s techniques and supplements to all caregivers who accompany the patients to the clinic, and they can be treated at the same time. I am eternally grateful. Thank you all at the rehab center.
I strained my knee running down the stair at home.
For three weeks I tried Advil, stretching, and walking but was not getting much better.
After just one treatment by Dr. Zhu I improved 80% the next day and got well in one week.
Thanks Dr. Zhu
Dr. Zhu and Dr. Siu is nothing but an answer and a miracle to a prayer. Freman had two strokes. He got acupuncture in Scottsdale, AZ. It helped him some. We move to Sac, CA, still looking for a good acupuncture doctor. While looking we tried every kind of therapist. We spent a lot of money trying to get help. We meet a acupuncture intern. She told us about Dr. Zhu who does scalp acupuncture. So I call him to make an appointment. He ask me how long has it been that he had the stroke. I told him 18 mo ago. He said he would try. So we made the first appointment in September. When we went he could not close his mouth, not swallow, drool walk around with a towel, no swallowing, could not move top lip at all, tongue could not move out or in, can not talk. Face was one sided. On the first visit we saw a big change in everyway that was wrong. He went to his speech/language pathologist. She was so surprised how much improvement he have made. See her report. May God bless.
Carolyn/ Freman Wife
5-star review from Yelp
Dr. Zhu is perhaps one of the few true geniuses I will meet in my lifetime. He is a true magician and incredible healer of all things neurological, and all just with his needles. He literally wrote the book on Scalp Acupuncture, and is super famous in China. But for some reason, few know of his work here in the US.
Let's just say that I was a major skeptic. I have a graduate degree from the London School of Economics, my Dad's a doc, and I've been a big believer in Western Medicine most of my life. When the head of the spine center at UCSF recommended me for surgery, I went to Dr. Zhu simply to prepare for the surgery and help with recovery time. I was in incredible pain, so figured it couldn't hurt.
When I told Zhu about my coming surgery, he looked me in the eye and said with utter confidence "Needles first."
"But I'm at risk of full paralysis if I don't get surgery" I retorted. "The head of the UC San Francisco Spine Center told me so"
"Surgery very risky…needles first" was his sage reply.
Okay, I thought, whatever. Just ignore him. His English isn't so good, he's from Shanghai, he is an old guy with a wandering eye. So I just kind of wrote him off. I was going under the knife in 2 weeks regardless, and just wanted some way to improve my recovery time. So I kept my mouth shut and just let him work on me.
Like magic, he stuck needles in my head and my pain began to evaporate from my body. At the end of the first session, I could move with far less pain. After two weeks and six sessions, I was 90% back to normal posture and mobility, and with little pain. It was nothing less than a miracle!!
I went back to the head of the Spine Center at UCSF days before my surgery. He did a series of manual tests on me, with a confused look on his face and a scrambling second look at his notes from my last visit. I paraphrase to the best of my memory:
"You are not testing positive for paralysis. I don't understand." the neurosurgeon said.
"Oh, that's because I got scalp acupuncture from this guy Dr. Zhu in San Jose and he fixed me with needles". I replied.
"I run $20 million + studies on the spine and know all the literature. There is no study that corroborates the assertion that acupuncture can help with this type of issue." he claimed. "However, for some reason you are not testing positive for paralysis. I cannot recommend you for surgery. Come back later if the symptoms reappear."
I left the UC San Francisco with a smile on my face, knowing Dr. Zhu had out gunned one of the top neurosurgeons in the country.
I went to Dr. Zhu once a month for a few more months of needles, then I was done. 97% back to normal. No surgery required.
Since then, I've recommended Dr. Zhu to dozens of friends with some fantastic results. The key is go at least 6 times. It's relatively cheap and it'll be worth every minute.
Check out his website at http://www.scalpacupuncture.org and get in there right away. He works best with neurological issues as close to onset as possible, so don't delay!!
Best of luck…
San Francisco, CA
I am a kidney failure patient. After 5-year waiting during Dialysis, recently received the Kidney Transplant Surgery. The surgery is successful; but, post surgery side effects gave me a lot of pains. But I got a new kidney.
6 weeks ago, I found so much pains suddenly hit me in my Neck, Shoulders, and my Back. My Neck was so weak that I was unable to support weight of my own Head. I had to walk, or stand with my Head Lower to my chest.
My relative introduced me to see Dr. Zhu. He uses scalp acupuncture to put needles in my scalp (which does not go into my brain). I saw Dr. Zhu a total of 10 times, and after 5 weeks, all those pains are gone, and I can stand and walk straight with my Head up again. I started my Tai-Chi practice and my Biking. Thanks to Dr. Zhu.
John Liu, 62 yr. old
Every year approximately 600,000 Americans become paralyzed. Many of them have the capacity to recover, but few understand clearly how to go about it. This is the story of how I recovered as a paraplegic, and it is an odyssey that many other paraplegics can follow, if they are really committed.
In early April of 2007, only days after completing six weeks of radiation and chemotherapy, I drove to town for my last doctor appointment, feeling relieved that the ordeal was over and imagining a healthy future. But by night my legs were tingling and weak, and by morning I lay in shock, imprisoned in a body that was numb.
The next six despairing weeks I spent in hospitals and at a rehabilitation clinic lying in a bed, propped up in a wheel chair, or brought to the rehab gym for practical exercises (like moving from bed to wheelchair) that I could not do. Finally I was sent home classified as a paraplegic, complete with home hospital bed, wheelchair and caretaker. I was unable to sit, stand, eat by myself or speak without slurring. The diagnosis: Myelitis. Lesions pocked my spine from one end to the other with inflammation of the spine.
The doctors offered little hope. “You might be the one in 13 thousand who walks again,” one said, “but I doubt it.” Another suggested, “Pay attention to the quality of your life. You probably don’t have long to live.” They were only trying to get me to face reality as they saw it: in their experience, apparently, patients in my condition rarely recovered.
Alone on one of many despairing nights, lying in the dark hospital room, my mind returned to memories of Dr. Ming Qing Zhu, an acupuncturist specializing in neurological spinal damage who years earlier had cured me within six visits of a chronic sciatic condition that in ten years other health practitioners had failed to heal. I vowed that once I was transferred to the rehab center, I would seek him out.
Soon after arriving at the center, I plotted the first of many secret visits to Dr. Zhu’s clinic – secret because the regulations at rehab required patients to remain on the premises. On the day of my initial appointment for my acupuncture, David, my partner of 20 years, with the help of two friends, shoved me into our Volvo for the hour-long trip. As none of us had experience in handling paraplegics, it must have looked like a circus act as they tried to squeeze me into the car.
Upon arrival at his acupuncture office, Dr. Zhu placed needles in my scalp and legs, “to activate the flow of energy from brain to body,” he explained. After the acupuncture treatment, Dr. Zhu and his colleague, Dr. Moyee Siu, pulled me to my feet via a harness and began coaxing my body to move in ways that it hadn’t been able to before. While I was a long way from getting up and walking on my own two feet out his office door, my recovery had begun; Dr. Zhu had convinced me, more than any conventional professional had been able to do, that I had the potential to heal. He announced that I might be able to walk within six months. Ecstatic, I clung to this only ticket to a future. I would do whatever he said.
“You must exercise all day.”
“All day?” I repeated incredulously.
“All day! At least six to eight hours a day. Ten best.”
He looked into my face, and gently spoke in simple English, “A year. No problem. Live rest of life walking.”
Upon being transferred home, I asked friends and family to come to our house and help. For six weeks guests came and went. One after another tried with great good will to follow the exercise regime prescribed by the assigned visiting therapist. I lay on the large exercise table that David had built for me, my head on three pillows, staring anxiously at my useless muscles, as I tried to will them to wake up while my friends stretched and moved my legs and arms. But their therapy was often inexact and inefficient. They were quickly exhausted by my constant neediness for personal care, and each soon left to return home back to the east. For three weeks I vomited every time I was placed in an upright position for trunk exercises; I still could not hold a fork nor speak without slurring or skipping words. My hair was sparse; my body weak. I was a shock to my visitors and a shock to myself.
As my last guest — my dear college roommate of 40 years earlier and a professor of philosophy — prepared to return to New York, I panicked. How could I recover with no one to help me? I could not even lift my legs off the bed. Back at her home, with tears in her eyes, she begged a Chinese scholar with whom she was co-editing a book on Neo-Confucianism to go out to California for several weeks to help her friend. Being of good physical condition and of good heart, he agreed.
And so I met Sean Cheng. Against medical expectations, under Sean’s direction I learned to walk again in six months.
I had the qualities necessary for a good patient. Not only was I was also willing to use my savings to support Sean’s help, but I was completely committed to recovery. I had heard stories of others who had regained their ability to walk and I was determined to be one of them.
What makes for a good therapist? While licensed physical therapists are essential to one’s recovery, most paraplegics lack the money to hire a full-time professional and must depend for the bulk of their healing process on the kindness of a committed partner, cousin or friend. In my case, I had Sean. Sean had never before practiced physical therapy, but he had the instincts to become a successful physical trainer and the insight to create and carry out a successful program.
Sean was perceptive and accurate in his assessment of my condition. As a retired engineer, he approached my disabilities analytically. He quickly realized that we were in a race against atrophying muscles, and that our efforts to re-create the neural pathways to those muscles had to be aggressive enough to counter the nerves’ lethargy. What he offered me was a ticket on an express train.
Our program used a multi-treatment approach. Besides completing six hours of intensive exercise every day at home – three in the morning and three after lunch – we went to a twice-weekly physical therapy session given by excellent therapists at the outpatient rehab clinic, and we continued to go to Dr. Zhu’s, took advantage of chiropractic care and massage, and followed a healthy diet. I even bought an expensive magnetic resonance mat and modem, equipment that is used in Europe, to help nurture my repairing nerves. If I had not had a foot wound, I would have added aquatic therapy to my regime.
There was a time appropriate for each discipline. Each approach offered us new exercises and new ideas for help. At the beginning, neurological acupuncture was crucial. Later, Sean urged me to go as an outpatient to the rehab clinic, which had useful equipment. At my first rehab session, I was put into a hoist, my legs dangling in walking position. Clearly, a lift for my morale.
The rehab therapists gave ‘homework assignments,’ exercises that we assiduously followed as presented or modified. We went to my chiropractor who, besides making spinal adjustments, tested each muscle for its strength, giving us helpful exercises to develop weaker muscles.
Sean was able to accurately assess each ‘next step.’ If I was learning to take steps forward fairly well, he might suggest my learning to step sideways or backwards. Under his guidance, each new exercise evolved naturally from the last, with no traumatic strain. Every new activity had to be safe for me; we did not take risks that might later have taken me months to recover from. We were almost always in agreement about what exercises to include, or exclude, in our daily six-hour program. Sometimes it was I who spontaneously added a new element to our regime. He listened to me and I to him.
Both of us were intensely committed to the recovery process. Our entire routine was spent in focused productivity. Sean maintained a challenging pace and rarely slacked off. I rarely resisted. The process was never comfortable for me. My body always felt too tight or my nerves too active; my legs alternated from feeling as if they were burning to feeling like two dead wooden sticks. Often my torso felt as if it was encased in a tight immovable girdle. I can truthfully say that not one day did I feel “normal” nor physically happy. Even so, moving was far more exciting than lying in bed.
Given the repetitive and often seemingly boring nature of our work (just how much fun can it have been for Sean to plod behind me, protecting me from a fall as I labored to move forward in my walker – back and forth, back and forth), I admired Sean for his consistent and patient endurance.
A natural motivator, Sean kept the boredom at bay. He got excited about every tiny breakthrough in the healing process and made sure that I knew what each little achievement was. “Perfect! Yesterday you only walked across the balcony (or raised your leg or stood up) five times. Today it was seven!” He made sure to tell David of my daily improvement, so that David himself began to feel hope that I would recover. It was truly amazing to hear Sean’s excitement. His enthusiasm — “You’re number one!” he would say during our plodding exercises — banished the mild melancholic state I woke to each morning. When I had to stand in the standing frame for 20 minutes, a task that I met with boredom and frustration (at that time my legs hated bearing my weight), Sean appeared with interesting and inspiring readings.
He would read to me in his limited English with his mispronunciations, and I, a professor by vocation, would correct him. But his choice of readings was inspirational and unexpected, such as the blurb on a poster that hung in my art studio about “How To Be an Artist”. When he first arrived, he brought from the studio one of my watercolor paintings, saying, “This is great!” and my heart lifted a bit in reliving the joy of painting.
He never pushed me too hard, but let me set new heights as I felt ready to do so. He knew my limits and possibilities well. The point was that he fully immersed himself in my experience, making me feel that we both were successful together. We were as one in our endeavor, and he was enthusiastic about that too. One of his many aphorisms was “Enjoy the happiness in the struggling, not only waiting for or after success.”
And Sean was inventive. I live in the country an hour from town. Our balcony served as our gym. We did not have rehab equipment available to us, but Sean’s philosophy was, “Don’t wait. Innovate. Just do it, NOW!” We did not have time to wait for insurance approval. One day as I was practicing walking with canes, the equipment specialist called to say that the leg extensions ordered months ago for my wheelchair (that I no longer used) had arrived! Both David and Sean were constantly putting together or taking apart makeshift equipment for needed exercises. To help me learn to stand up from a sitting position, Sean, looking for the outcome of the exercise rather than the attractiveness of the equipment, took apart the $3,000 standing frame so that he could stand directly in front of me as I lifted off from the angled seat. Early on, David had hammered together from scrap wood a “tilting board” that more or less mimicked the one that had been used in the hospital to prepare me for standing in an upright position. We made our own equipment.
When I needed parallel bars David brought home from the dump a metal table top, and he and Sean sawed it up to duplicate parallel bars. Sean took apart the ‘raised-arm platform’ of a walker that we had recently purchased but no longer needed and inverted the platform so it became the “sand walker” that we used to practice walking on the beach.
When I was ready to practice climbing stairs, Sean tapped a newspaper around old telephone books to create the first step — three inches high. Later he hammered together pieces of wood to make four separate stepping blocks. One day he built handrails beside the studio steps so that, using the combination of the low wood stepping blocks, I could practice going up and down a mini-flight of stairs. To make the repetition of step climbing more interesting, he announced one day that four trips up and down the six steps equaled one flight of stairs and would win me a “star”. Of course I wanted to become a five-star winner, so I willingly climbed more steps. I was a college professor, yet these simple incentives always awakened in me the determination to make new efforts. Only someone who has undergone months of tedious rehabilitative exercise can appreciate this kind of inventiveness.
Sean made every day different: he always found a way to do something in a new way, a change from previous days. He was imaginative. I think we both appreciated each other’s adventurous intelligence. And intelligence was needed in keeping up the pace of recovery. That, and a sense of fun.
It wasn’t always fun. Following so intense a program was highly stressful, and occasionally each of us had to deal with our emotional baggage. But we were adult enough to work through the problems and to push on. “Just keep going” could have been our motto.
Sean was never critical. He saw all of my efforts for what they were: efforts. My caretaker told the rehab therapists who were awed by our progress, “Sean tells Marjorie what to do but she does it.” To quote Anatole France, “Nine-tenths of learning is encouragement.” Sean tried to open me to seeing myself in the wider world – to see that I was not so much an invalid as part of the adventure of life. He constantly and cheerfully quoted aphorisms and philosophical dictums. One of his favorites was the Chinese saying: “Read ten thousand books; walk ten thousand miles.” Surely we walked ten thousand steps together.
Of all the people who every year find themselves paraplegics, many of them, like me, never dreamed they would find themselves in such a state – one patient I met had become paralyzed as a result of a spider bite, another from an auto accident, a third from a stroke. But newly paralyzed patients shouldn’t wait to find “the cause,” but focus on the recovery. Such victims will speed their healing if they can find someone to help them start the demanding daily exercise program (guided by a professional physical therapist) as early in their recovery as possible, preferably when they are still in the hospital because one’s muscles atrophy very quickly. Helpers need to be cautioned, however, that muscles and tendons are very fragile, particularly in the weak state of a paralytic, and that great care must be taken that their body is handled exceedingly accurately, neither too loosely nor too abruptly. In my experience, Dr. Zhu’s intense acupuncture was absolutely necessary early in the recovery. Each day is crucial.
On November 29 Sean and I made a return visit to Dr. Zhu. I walked in awkwardly with two canes. They were ecstatic. Standing for photos I raised my canes in victory. We made a miracle!