Method is imperative in this strenuous life of
ours. Nature in her universal operations
seems to sanction a uniform system in our daily
conduct. Had we a regular time for doing things,
periodicity would be established in our sleeping,
eating, bathing, defecating, work, recreation, etc.
Unfortunately, we are prone to ignorance, self-indulgence,
procrastination, which render us careless
and reckless in regard to the common-sense conditions
of normal living; and before we are fairly out
of our ’teens we begin to bear a crop of proctitis,
colitis, constipation, etc.
It is in this way that periodicity as to stooling is
lost, and whim, convenience, or necessity takes its
place. As a result, we dribble or strain under the
fecal and gaseous burden. This happy-go-lucky
method accounts for much of the gastro-intestinal
disorder complained of by so many, who “want to
die” when the painful neurasthenic blues hover
around and pervade their bodies like a dense fog.
The insidious manner in which proctitis, colitis,
constipation, and self-poisoning progress from mild
through medium to severe stages does not, generally,
alarm the victim of intestinal neurasthenia
until many years have elapsed, and one or more of
the vital organs have become diseased, and the
whole system is thoroughly under its toxic effects.
Thus, slowly, are the various segments of the gastro-intestinal
canal changed to an abnormal condition.
Suppose the tissues of one of your arms and
hands were inflamed, constricted, or swollen, and
that the nerves of motion were uncertain, shaky,
and “kinky,”—all of which conditions we often
find in the digestive apparatus,—and that finally
recovery takes place under persevering and patient
treatment; how soon, think you, could a sensible
person expect the limb thus affected to become as
useful as its companion that had never been disturbed
by disease?
Unfortunately, we have not two sets of bowels.
Ocean steamers are equipped with two sets of motion-producing
engines, so that the disability of one
will result in no loss of speed. When man places
as much commercial value on himself as he does on
his machines or on a boat, he will either induce
Nature to furnish him with an extra set of energy-producing
organs, or he will take the best possible
care of the only one she vouchsafes to him—a care
that extends from os to anus.
Civilized man does, indeed, take a little notice of
a sore mouth (although indifferent about an unclean
one), and will even try hard to have it heal, because
a sore mouth may be seen, and is likely to disfigure
him. But a sore anus and rectum may, for all he
seriously cares, play their painful and poisonous
pranks until he is put to bed disabled or is sent to
an asylum—or to the final inn where all diseases of
the body cease from troubling and the weary organs
are at rest.
To re-establish that normal régime of physiological
relations called health, after many years of
perverse relations and disorderly practices, obviously
requires time and intelligent, faithful
attention to prescribed conditions.
The factors or causes that militate against the
removal of curable diseases are:
(1) The neglect of a local disorder until it has
had time to exhaust the general vitality of the
system.
(2) Inattention on the part of the patient after
he has obtained temporary or partial relief.
(3) The victim arbitrarily setting his own time
limit for the cure of the disease.
(4) His wilful disobedience of prescribed rules.
(5) Inability to realize the importance of having
the cause removed, as well as the local symptoms.
Confining attention for the present to proctitis
and colitis, I wish to impress the patient, as well as
the physician, with the fact that no better measure
for relieving or removing these undermining disorders
can be adopted than the regular practice,
twice or thrice daily, of intestinal irrigation by
means of enemas. The persistent use of the
enema is directly influential in relieving and removing
the symptoms of such disorders. These
symptoms may be piles, prolapse, skinny tabs, fissure,
dull pains, soreness, itching channels, stricture
of the anus and rectum, ulceration, abscess, fistula,
cancer, etc.
In the early history of ulcerative proctitis and
colitis, the local symptoms at the anal vent may
not be noticeable; yet the disease may be quite
well developed for six or nine inches along the
bowels. The early or more obscure symptoms are
mild and unnoticeable; then they progress into
notice, sometimes most sharply; finally we have
severe and chronic constipation, indigestion, flatulency,
diarrhea, etc., and, keeping pace with these,
we have the stages of self-poisoning, which is
known as auto-infection or auto-intoxication.
With other measures, the most effective for relieving
and removing these symptoms of proctitis
and colitis is the enema night and morning. During
the long period of relaxation at night, the functions
of elimination and repair are, with the great
majority of us, going on under abnormal conditions—such,
for instance, as excessive fermentation
and bacterial putrefaction, which generate poisonous
gases that are absorbed by the nerves and
bring about the condition of malaise we complain
of when we rise in the morning. We then find our
bowels distended and ready for relief—and also,
strangely, “not ready”!
Before dressing, therefore, is the time to relieve
the excessive pressure from gases and feces, and a
slight enema is accordingly advisable, say from
half a pint to a pint of water, which should be expelled
at once. This removal of the contents of
the rectum and perhaps of the sigmoid flexure will
permit the contents of the ascending and transverse
colon to pass more readily toward and into the sigmoid
flexure, as though they had been invited to
come; and, indeed, such passage is rendered inevitable
by the removal of the local gas and feces in
their path. When half an hour or more has passed
and breakfast is over, it is time for the regular and
complete evacuation of the bowels, by the aid of
the internal bath, or, as some describe it, by a full
flushing of the colon.
In our early efforts to establish harmony and
periodicity with the enema, it is advisable to resort
to a mild vegetal laxative, in some cases, rather
than to let the tongue indicate so much foulness
and allow the feelings to become so intensely blue
that they cannot be hidden by even the utmost
effort at pleasantry. Extreme cases may call for
different aids toward relief, until, one by one, these
aids may be dropped—the last one to be discontinued
being the enema.
For a short time at the start it is, perhaps, best
to confine one’s self to two enemas, especially if
fairly successful with the attempt at a thorough
cleansing after breakfast and before retiring at
night. The sleep will be sounder and the patient
will be more apt to rise refreshed with a clean
tongue and cheerful spirits. So much will this
before-bed enema do for him that he may soon
find it unnecessary to take the preliminary injection
on rising, inasmuch as fermentation and gas
will no longer trouble him. But individual experience
and intelligence must dictate the course in
this respect. Let the patient study himself and
note the demands of his system. It may even be,
indeed it is frequently the case, that a patient requires
several enemas during the day. When abnormality
has set in, it gives rise to all sorts of
freak requirements, and the victim must, for a
time, accede to its whims.
Quite frequently, owing to various causes, the
feces will descend into the rectum, which is properly
a conduit, not a receptacle. While there it
occasions much nervous irritation of the whole
system and makes its victim desperate. It is wise,
under such a condition, to take slight injections for
relief. Never allow any foulness to accumulate.
Establish the habit of internal cleanliness. The
new sense of bodily purity will be so great that it
can never be outgrown.
Nature easily accommodates herself to habits,
whatever they be—normal or abnormal, wholesome
or unwholesome, cleanly or uncleanly; and the
train of consequences will be accordingly good or
evil. My point may be easily illustrated by the
habits of “civilized” man in regard to bathing.
Many persons never take an external bath, and
are not conscious of any bodily discomfort arising
from the omission of this presumably necessary
practice. As the summer approaches, another batch
of “civilizees,” so fortunate as to be within convenient
distance of a pond, lake, river, or ocean, begin
to feel the real need of a “dip,” and are uncomfortable
until they get it. This is surely a sign
that the spirit of cleanliness is beginning to stir in
the breast of humanity. Then there is another
contingent that bathe once a week, and should
their regular routine in this respect be interfered
with they would at once feel unclean—nay, even
dirty, and, sometimes, “nasty.” Others, again,
bathe twice or thrice weekly, and this quota of
the human race feels very uncomfortable and foul
when hindered for a week from following this routine;
indeed, such bathers often imagine that a dire
illness is impending. Finally, the “salt of the
earth” take an external bath once or twice a day,
and, should their routine be suspended for twenty-four
hours, visions of madness or suicide begin to
haunt them until relieved by soap and hot water,
or the cold plunge, as their habits require.
Of course, the same rule applies to the routine
concerning the teeth, facial ablutions, etc. Nature
is stored habit, and she feels outraged when her
proprieties are disregarded. Let us pray, therefore,
that the habit of cleanliness may become
contagious!
Now, the parallel between external and internal
cleanliness is quite obvious. Those whose bowels
move but once in two or three days do not realize
how foul they are. Others have a scant evacuation
once in twenty-four hours, and they imagine
that they are as clean as those that take an external
bath once a week think themselves to be.
Still others have two stools daily, and they feel as
clean internally as those that take three external
baths weekly. And, finally, there are a few who,
defecating thrice daily, feel quite as clean as does
the most persistent external bather. Thus we see
that cleanliness, external and internal, is a habit, a
new nature, attended with exquisite comfort and
pleasure—a quality that may lead to the goal of
divine purity in realizing the joys of hydropathy.
The wild woodland flower grew and blossomed
without attention, attracting but little interest.
After, however, the florist has cultivated it to the
high stage of development in which we find it to-day,
with its stalk, stem, leaf, and fragrant petals
displaying their marvelous symmetry and beauty,
we begin to appreciate the value of labor, pains,
cultivation. In like manner, it is our imperative
duty to give proper care to every requisite detail
in the transformation of our body into a human
flower of health, grace, joy, and harmony.
The great majority of those that do me the
honor to read what I have to say on internal and
external cleanliness will, doubtless, not agree with
me as to the frequency of the ablutions in twenty-four
hours. Yet I have a suspicion that if my objectors
were to try an external and an internal bath,
on both rising and retiring, they would soon consider
the practice too delightful to be foregone;
they would soon develop more sweetness of character
and be more particular as to the purity of
their nether garments, and, finally, would seem
ensphered by an atmosphere peopled with angels.
My proposition is this: First make a man clean,
internally and externally, and thus you may make
him good; after you have made him good you can
make him healthy in both body and mind; after you
have made him healthy you can make him full of
joy.
To recapitulate: A good time to take your internal
bath is about half an hour after each meal.
Cultivate regularity in this, and Nature will second
your efforts and establish a periodicity for you
by her suggestive impulse and call. Our internal
economy should not be slighted as it has been.
The intestines are good, faithful, patient servitors,
ready to perform their lowly office even when we
are inattentive and heedless. Sometimes, however,
they become rebellious, after they have stood
more abuse than one would think them capable of
standing. Let us reform our bad habits; our servitors
are willing to enter with us into better habits,
and co-operate with us in a truly human life. Can
you not spare a few minutes, three times a day, at
regular periods, for inner purification? You will
find it very easy when once you make it a matter
of routine.
Now note this point: The work of your brain
depends on the power sent to it by the gastro-intestinal
canal. A motor car goes no faster than
the power furnished enables it to go. So your
brain activity is ever on a par with the energy supplied
from this usually despised intestinal source;
that is, it can never rise higher than the supply of
this energy warrants, and it always falls to the
level of this supply, for it depends on it absolutely
for sustaining power. It would seem, therefore,
that common sense would be sufficient to shame
us into keeping clean, scrupulously clean, the canal
that supplies us with working force—the canal that
extends without a break from mouth to anus. Yet
my experience shows that almost everybody cares
more for his outsides than for his insides—more
for squandering his stored energy than for looking
out for its constant renewal—and that most patients
are foul all the way down.
Well-fed animals that have the range of Nature
are plump, and have healthy hair, skin, teeth, etc.,
because their intestinal organs perform their functions
frequently and fully. When animals become
domesticated and “civilized,” they become constipated
and catch various human illnesses or grow
a crop of their own. Well-fed “humanals” grow
thin and puny, or bloated with gas, looking like
corpulent clay men, without natural teeth, without
natural hair, their skin dry and of a sickly hue,
bloodless, fading away because of an early blight
before they have completed their early growth.
Heredity is blamed for the bloodless, nerveless,
brainless body, when, as a matter of fact, its degeneration
is due to foulness within.
Birds, beasts, and savages (more fortunate than
civilized man) have the wide earth on which to
stool when Nature calls. Their handy water-closet
enables them to enjoy good health. As civilization
advances, and business and social customs become
more complex, water-closets get fewer and less accessible.
As a consequence, man has to use his
large intestine for a storehouse. He has done this
so long that it seems impossible to break him of
the foul habit. But he is paying the penalty.
Many have abused the bladder in the same way,
and had this been a large organ like its brother,
the colon, we would long ago have heard the stereotyped
excuse in regard to this function, “Oh, any
time to urinate that I can find will do.” Those
who object to the new order of bowel relief should,
on the same principle, object to frequent bladder
relief.
I submit this proposition to the judgment of unprejudiced
minds: Is it not reasonable that so
harmless and efficient a remedy as the internal
bath should be adopted by all intelligent persons?
Inasmuch as neglect—due to social, business, and
other customs, and to lack of conveniences for
ready relief—has brought upon us so much fecal
poisoning and local disorders and so many abnormal
and pernicious systemic results, it should not
be considered too great a task to take an internal
bath three times a day to amend our outrage on
Nature—an outrage that involves our health and
general well-being, here and hereafter. We owe
it, not only to our possibilities, but also to posterity,
that fecal poisoning be banished. We have no
right to communicate such a taint to our children.
They have a right to be free from such poison.
Do we ever think of their claims in this regard?
Let us leave them a better legacy, by adopting the
thrice-a-day use of the enema for the purification
of the alimentary canal!