capitalism is giving u diarrhea

The perks of having no health insurance include exploring the more financially-permissible world of non-Western medicine. Today, I went to the Traditional Chinese Medicine Healing Center on Santa Monica Blvd. Having read Lady Tan’s Circle of Women and The Way of Qigong, and having completed the new patient intake form, checking options like “craving toward sweet foods” and “decreased joy for life,” I wasn’t surprised by the holistic mind-body approach. My doctor was soft-spoken, yet precise and confident. She looked 30, but I bet she was in her mid-forties. Her counsel was directed toward my entire generation: you’re falling for their tricks.

Cold plunges, hot saunas, intermittent fasting, CBD, calcium-magnesium supplements, you name it. She emphasized the importance of balance and of avoiding extremes. I was allured by her anti-capitalist rhetoric, the “of course they fund studies that purport the health benefits of using their product!”

As I lay on the table, she dropped nuggets of wisdom and felt my pulse simultaneously. “You’re so stressed,” she said. My worst nightmare. Always having dreamt of being the cool, chill, easygoing girl and perpetually projecting that image into the world, I was betrayed by my pulse. The inner machinations of my mind were no longer an enigma. My body had its own agenda. I was stressed and it was affecting my health.

Stress, the silent killer. Apparently it’s common: many people experience health (and more specifically, and, in my case, digestive) problems due to stress. Dr. Miao didn’t say it was a sign of the times, but Harry Styles did and that’s enough for me. She did, however, differentiate between what is common and what is normal. This level of constant stress, while common, was not normal. I found this reminder helpful.

Dr. Miao fastidiously stuck needles into the crown of my head, my right thumb, a diamond in the center of my stomach, constellations lining my shins and toes. “I’m going to leave you here for 40 minutes. You can sleep or meditate.” She slid a clicker into my left hand. “Press this button if you need me.” And like that, she vanished. Alone and vulnerable, I was left with no choice but to direct my thoughts and emotions toward something positive or at least, manageable. Self-regulation, that beautiful gift we develop in the lonely gaps of childhood when there was no button.

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