SPLEEN!!!

Quand le ciel bas et lourd pèse comme un couvercle
Sur l’esprit gémissant en proie aux longs ennuis…

Ainsi que des esprits errants et sans patrie
Qui se mettent à geindre opiniâtrement.

When the low, heavy sky weighs like a lid
On the groaning spirit, victim of long ennui,

Even as wandering spirits with no country
Burst into a stubborn, whimpering cry.

–Charles Baudelaire, Spleen

France’s famous poet made the French learn the English word spleen before they probably even knew what the organ did in their body. Opting for the English word spleen instead of the French “rate”, Baudelaire called his emotional turmoil and distress, “spleen”.

I was diagnosed by several Chinese doctors with a weak spleen before I knew what role that organ played in my body.

I knew from my aunt that before the Russian Revolution, elite Russians often went to Western Europe to heal their weak spleen, caused by emotional and/or romantic upsets.

Ten years ago, I had horrible acne that no Western dermatologist could treat without overloading my body with antibiotics. An esthetician recommended I visit a Chinese doctor. My Taiwanese coworker’s mother ran a bookstore in San Francisco’s Chinatown and found me a Traditional Chinese doctor who spoke no English. I arrived on a weekday afternoon to the small herb store in San Francisco’s Stockton Street. As usual with me, I was the only white person in the shop. The doctor’s wife immediately knew who I was and instructed me to sit on a small stool and wait for the doctor. The smells of the herbs were so foreign to me and I couldn’t read any of the boxes. After about 10 minutes, she motioned for me to go into the back room. The doctor spoke in Cantonese to his daughter who translated. After looking at my tongue and eyes and measuring my pulse, he pronounced, “You have a sugar problem.” His recommended diet for me: Stop being a vegetarian. No sugar, no dairy, no greasy foods, no caffeine, and no alcohol. I added fish to my vegetarian meals. The doctor’s wife and son-in-law measured the prescribed herbs using an old fashioned abacus weight measurement and then explained how to make the horrible brew. Many disgustingly bitter herbal potions later, my acne went away and my eye irritation subsided.

About six weeks ago in China, two acupuncturists told me that my digestive problems, toe nail fungus, congestion and bruising issues were all related to my weak spleen. They told me to avoid the same foods as the Cantonese doctor had told me a decade ago and also added that I must avoid raw foods. Hmm, it sounds like I’ve had a weak spleen for a long time. Not only did it take me four languages (French, Russian, English and Chinese) to learn about the spleen, but it made me examine my life and what was causing this disfunction. Baudelaire described his malady in English. The Russians went to the Western Europeans to heal their spleens. I had to hear it from Cantonese and Mandarin speaking doctors. It seems like spleen issues may have a history of globalization.

It turns out that stress and too much thinking weaken the spleen. People who take on a lot of burden and responsibility are also susceptible to my condition. Being a writer makes me think a lot, and perhaps too much and too often. Ok, so I need to take breaks from using my brain. I can do that.

However, I’ve also prided myself on being responsible, even labeling myself as a “responsible bohemian” – a lover of life who can pay her taxes on time, or early. This role was not one for which I volunteered; in fact, it’s one I think many children of immigrants take on. With one parent half-deaf and the other speaking poor English and gradually losing his hearing, I had to learn how to communicate for my family. I think that’s one of the reasons I learned seven languages and could read people’s mannerisms. In my early teens, I started to fill out my parent’s voting brochures before elections so they would know how to vote. I learned about the real estate market when I was about 12 or 13 to help my parents sell their condo. I filled out my own school permission slips.

Did this cause an early onset of spleen disfunction? I think so. Taking on adult roles at an early age taught me how to be “a big girl”, but it also made me naturally take on other people’s problems. I’ve noticed that I am a good problem solver and people come to me with their complaints. Hearing qualms in multiple languages simultaneously makes my brain go into overdrive. Well, now my body is telling me to stop dealing with other people’s problems and straighten out my own body so my spleen can process my food well and distribute nutrients and blood to my body. I bruise easily because my spleen is not holding the blood in the blood vessels as it should. Goodbye to internal and external bruising due to other people’s issues!

Now, how do I explain that to my family? As soon as I get home, I will hear in Russian or Spanish, “Susanna, fix my computer. Susanna, what does this mean? Susanna, edit my essay. Susanna, I don’t understand, explain this to me.” (I live with my family in old-world style. My brother in law is from Ecuador and we speak in Spanish.)

Though I am not one of Baudelaire’s wandering spirits in an unknown country, about to groan or cry, I do feel his pain. But I don’t want to end up like he did, sad and depressed. I will turn off my brain a bit and relax, in any language, or with no words.