The Plumb Blossom Clinic

Here in the West, we’re a bit funny about having our tummies touched. Hardly surprising when the abdominal region is where many people store their stress in the guise of digestive problems, IBS, bloating or just a general build up of toxins which a sluggish system can’t shift. But suggest to any Westerner that they let a total stranger rub it better and the words ‘stick’, pins’ and ‘eyeballs’ will feature in the reply.

In the East, however, they have Chi Nei T’sang – aka internal organ massage –, which in theory sounds great. A more natural form of colonic irrigation (without the tubes, the embarrassment or the mess), manipulation of the internal organs promotes peristalsis (movement and churning of food through the digestive tract) thereby releasing toxins, controlling yeast infections such as candid, and helping fight IBS. And unlike colonic irrigation, which only cleanses the large intestine, Chi Nei T’sang works the small intestine while tonifying the liver, gall bladder, spleen, kidneys and adrenals as well.

All of which seems like a good deal, so I’m off to Karmaa, a martial arts gym meets holistic treatment centre in Camden, for a session with Oriental medicine practitioner Rob Williamson.

As he warms his hands, he cheerfully tells me that in Thailand, practitioners massage the front of a patient’s spine with the elbow via the abdomen. Unsurprisingly, the Western diet means they’ve had to modify the technique over here, which comes as something of a relief.

The session starts with a belly button reading. Apparently, if viewed in the right way, the navel gives a lot away about what’s going on inside. Today, mine’s pointing in the direction of the ileocecal valve, a vital part of the digestive system between the upper and lower intestine that is prone to malfunctioning. The valve should open and close freely, according to the requirements of your healthy system. Often, however, it stays closed, preventing ‘matter’ (as Rob quaintly puts it) from passing through regularly. I daren’t ask what happens when the valve is stuck open…

Typically, my ileocecal is closed for business so Rob gets to work, gently massaging his way around my belly, which he declares to be ‘a bit lumpy’. I suspect more sit-ups could solve that, though Rob suggests I might be holding on to 15 years worth of stored matter (that word again), which renders me speechless.

As if I hadn’t got the message, he throws in an anecdote about how John Wayne’s autopsy revealed he had 63lbs of compacted … never mind, let’s just say it’s good to keep things moving.

After more probing, poking and kneading. I can only assume that when not performing Oriental treats, Rob makes great bread. I’m feeling quite groggy, which again is normal as all those toxins have been stimulated but have yet to be flushed out by the gallons of water I’m to drink over the next few days.

As massages go, Chi Nei T’sang is not exactly feel-good. But after an hour or so, I certainly feel better – unburdened, strangely liberated. And my valve’s banging open and shut like an outhouse door in the wind. Which simply has to be good.