The first Western disease I was ever familiar with as a little boy was arthritis. My beloved paternal grandmother, Bertha Cooper, suffered from this pathology for many years. She had it very bad in her wrists and joints. I remember her asking me if I would go to the corner liquor store on the corner of 101st Street and Avalon Boulevard in Watts, California, and buy her some Ben Gay, a white pharmaceutical anti-inflammatory rubbing cream. She would rub Ben Gay on her wrists and joints and her tendons as well.

As a little boy, I didn