CHAPTER 18: The Physician
The next morning, Melaina woke dull, irritable, and afraid. Her tongue was swollen and sore. When she opened her eyes, she saw her mother hovering over her, deep wrinkles chiseled into her forehead. How suffocating her mother's presence had become.
"Yes, mother, the epilepsy returned. Leave me alone." Melaina was surprised at the venom of her own words.
She drifted in and out of sleep. She felt somehow violated, ravaged. She had troubling flashes of the previous evening. Her visitor had seemed both ethereal and corporeal. Her experience during the Mysteries ceremony, when she'd dreamed of entering the Underworld, and the euphoric visions before each of her seizures, had blurred the fine line between illusion and reality. But the smell of him was still on her, replacing all the perfumes. Had it been Sophocles? Had he followed her home and presumed her risky, temptress role an invitation to enter her dark chamber? Or was it a dream?
She was sore between the thighs and wondered if she'd forfeited her maidenhood. She'd never really understood virginity. She'd known girls who'd taken lovers but were still married later as virgins.
That afternoon, as the sun's rays entered from the window high on the wall, she finally rose from bed, donned an old chiton, one to which her mother was especially partial, and went to her chamber. Melaina was surprised to see her mother there on her knees before the bed with her face buried in the covers.
"Don't mind me," her mother offered, rising to reveal tear-filled eyes, "I've been missing your father lately. You've matured considerably since you left for Brauron. Something in your manner reminds me of him."
"My irritability?" Melaina said, slumping to her knees beside her.
"Hardly."
"The seizures do it to me." Melaina hugged her, realizing how grouchy she'd been upon waking. "I've been thinking of my commitment to Artemis lately, and now I realize that what you told me before is true. I don't really understand virginity."
"If you won't marry, why worry?" Her mother looked smug.
"Curiosity."
Her mother smiled, took a deep breath, and shook her head. "Virginity is a purity of the heart defined by a maiden's relationship with the divine. That's why the Pythia at Delphi must be virgin. She's a conveyance for Apollo's prophecies, leaving his word untouched as it flows through her, a perfect rendering."
"But the Pythia is... Some have had children."
"Virginity can be restored. Hera restores hers every spring in Kanathos, the sacred fountain at Nafplion."
"How does a maiden lose her virginity?"
"When married, she dedicates her life to Hera, thus changing her relationship with the divine. When she's joined with her husband, the gods close her off spiritually for bearing children. A woman's body is like a leaky jar. When she becomes pregnant, the jar is sealed and set in its ideal condition. This stops the flow for it to nurture the child."
"The end of virginity is not first intercourse?"
"Definitely not. As I said before, it is similar to initiation into the Mysteries. In the uninitiated state, the soul sways from one life path to another, wandering in a great spiritual wilderness. The desires are insatiable, whether for money, power, sex, or food. After initiation, the soul closes, as an oyster in its shell, and is able to differentiate between what is seemly and what is not. It retains that which nurtures, expels the rest. The desires moderate. Life's tribulations become tolerable, enlightening."
"But what of deflowering? Isn't that loss of virginity?"
"Oh that!" Her mother slapped her leg, stood up. "Men invented that to satisfy their need to be first, to mark the woman as their conquest and bolster their weak opinion of themselves."
"What if a maiden lays with a man before marriage?"
"If an indiscretion occurs but is not made public, the question of virginity never arises. What's the harm?"
"But what of the relationship with the divine."
"If her status with the gods has changed, it will be revealed."
"And if it becomes public?"
"Banishment from the family. Sold as a slave."
Melaina tried hard not to let her mother see how this last pronouncement hurt. She heard a voice outside her mother's chamber that sent a chill through her. Kleito burst into the room and came for Melaina, her great bulk shaking the walls. Little Euripides, clasping her dress, was swept in her wake.
Melaina backed off, turned and flung herself against the wall. "No, Kleito!" she shouted. "No more hellebore!"
Her mother stepped between them and calmed Melaina, explaining that as soon as she realized the epilepsy had returned, she'd sent for Kleito. Melaina relaxed when assured hellebore was not what Kleito had in mind.
Melaina had just caught her breath and stooped to greet Euripides, who tugged at her chiton, when the Hierophant entered with a man and a young woman. The man carried a staff about which was coiled a live yellow snake.
"I've brought Podaleirius, a physician, to examine you," said her grandfather. "He's from the island of Kos, a man of great learning."
Melaina wasn't quite sure what "examine" meant and, if the snake was involved, not particularly anxious to find out. She'd never really been sick. Her constitution had always been sturdy, and good physicians were scarce in Eleusis. Yet trusting her grandfather, she averted her eyes. As the man approached, a pleasant whiff of spikenard preceded him.
The Hierophant addressed her mother. "A medical center has been established on Kos. The knowledge gathered there could one day change the lives of all Hellenes."
"I heard mention of hellebore upon entering," Podaleirius said, already intensely observing his patient. "Has someone administered to the maiden?"
Melaina noted the physician to be tastefully modest in dress, alert, and she liked him instantly.
"I did," said Kleito, "after a previous seizure."
The physician's face flooded with pain, eyes momentarily closed. He was tall, broad shouldered, bearded, a man of great dignity. He questioned Kleito about the hellebore while circling Melaina, his eyes scanning every detail of her anatomy. "Method of preparation, please."
Kleito bristled but gave him the rudiments of the harvest and extraction of the active ingredient, the steaming broth she'd administered.
"That's all?"
"Yes… Well…" She looked ready to lie but glanced sheepishly toward Myrrhine. "Also a little Herakleia," she admitted, a little girl's frightened look flashing her face.
"Administered?"
"In the broth."
"Simultaneously?" The physician's expression of disapproval returned. "Unfortunate. You could have killed her."
Kleito's face turned bright red. "Never would I do anything to harm the child!"
"For epilepsy, Herakleia should be used separately in a posset of mead, a fermented drink of water and honey, malt and yeast."
"I know how to prepare a posset," said Kleito, spitting out the words. "Her condition dictated a unique praxis."
"She survived. We certainly won't repeat it."
Kleito stepped toward the physician who flinched slightly then regained his posture. "I came to recommend they take her to Epidaurus," she said. "I've recently heard of cures for the sacred sickness there."
Melaina eyed the snake coiled about the staff. Slowly its head moved, slithered, scales flashing pale golds. A serpent, she thought, a dragon. She noticed that her grandfather was also distracted, as if suffering himself.
"Epilepsy is no more sacred than any other so-called divine disease," the physician said. "All diseases have a cosmic cause. Epilepsy not more so. Its origin lies in heredity." Melaina thought his speech was elegant, and that Podaleirius had a generally pleasant presence.
"Her father's death caused it," countered Myrrhine. "Neither her father nor I, nor any of our family, has ever had it. She had no sign of it before his death at Marathon."
"Still, she had the inclination. One of you gave her that. The brain overflows with phlegm, which rushes into the blood vessels. It's rel
eased by cold, wind, or sun."
As he examined Melaina, she noticed how his eyes at times looked upward into the distance, projecting great inner emotion, as might one who absorbs the suffering of his patient.
"Won't she outgrow it?" asked Myrrhine.
"Is it getting better or worse?"
"She had no seizures for years but started again recently, following her trauma at Brauron."
"I'd say not. Marking is the only chance of recovery."
"Marking?"
"Gnarling of a hand, drawing of the mouth. Some such paralysis or a distortion of the eye."
"Oh, by all that's divine, no!" said Myrrhine.
"Perhaps when she's married. Intercourse and pregnancy help."
"But she's given herself to Artemis and sworn to remain virgin."
"Does she become hysterical easily?"
"Never."
"Her womb is not overly dry then, no straying about the abdominal cavity seeking moisture from the liver, heart, or bladder. The animal within it desires bearing children, becomes discontent, angry, and wanders about the body. Does she suffer mental derangement, ramble or utter obscenities?"
"Outrageous!"
He handed the staff with the coiled snake to his assistant and approached Melaina directly. "Have you started the menses?"
"While in Brauron. I've had the flow six times."
"Ah, you've danced the Bear for Artemis. Is your flow regular?"
"Only a day's difference."
"How do you measure it? I'd have thought the south wind might make it unpredictable."
"The phase of the moon."
"Okay then," he said looking satisfied with his physical examination. "Yesterday was the winter solstice, which activated the seizure, I'm sure. The fit occurred in the evening, I assume, a general violence of the body including shaking of the limbs."
Melaina wondered why he didn't ask her what had happened rather than make these pronouncements, even though they were correct.
He took her chin in his palm, pushed his finger between her lips and pried apart her teeth. Melaina gagged. His finger was cold, musty, with a hint of mint.
He spoke to the young woman. "Hygieiadora."
His assistant had stayed silent and back from the group but now returned the staff with coiled snake, and she began testing Melaina's body. She took both hands in hers, squeezed, same with the forearms, biceps. She brought Melaina's arms out from her sides to test freedom of movement, felt the constriction of waist, the thighs, flair of hips, felt the newly ripened breasts.
Melaina giggled and pulled away.
Hygieiadora returned to Podaleirius and spoke quietly in his ear.
"She's in excellent health," he informed his attentive audience, "deformed less than most women from the male norm."
Melaina was greatly offended by this remark, but bit back her words.
"She's hotter than most females, less moist. Good signs but they don't help the epilepsy." He fell into thought, closed his eyes as if communicating with some apparition, then, with a start, resumed talking. "My guess would be that you've been suffering from melancholy, and are unusually devoted to the gods. Ill-tempered, perhaps even ill-mannered."
Her mother again defended Melaina. "Scandalous! Certainly not."
"This is the so-called diviner's disease. You may at times prophesy while experiencing wondrous visions and frequently lapse into the madness of the Muses. Last night, by all indications, you had gnawing of the tongue accompanied by copious froth. Afterward, you felt weak, pale, and lethargic, the head heavy."
"Yes," said Melaina. "Correct on all counts."
"A treatment frequently used in the east, in such a case, is to drill a hole in the head, drain excess fluids directly from the skull."
Myrrhine screamed and rushed to Melaina. "Enough!" she said, "No more of this outrage!"
"Not a treatment I'd recommend for this maiden," said the physician coldly.
"Mother, please." Melaina pushed her back. "I'll not suffer the skull drilling, but the diagnosis is accurate. He understands the euphoria. Not all burdens are a curse," she added, remembering her father's words. She turned to the physician. "Just before each seizure I exist in the presence of the gods."
"As do we all. You are only more intensely aware of them."
"Not true," said Melaina. "I see them."
The physician stared piercingly. "Visions?"
"Yes, same landscape but with the gods added, as if a veil has been lifted to reveal their presence." She remembered her experience last night but didn't dare say that one had lain with her.
"Astonishing! Your condition shouldn't be meddled with by a mortal. Physical sensations at onset?"
"It comes like a breeze, an aura. I also see visions in fire."
"Of the future, no doubt." He turned to Kleito, who'd slinked back out of sight. "I agree she should go to Epidaurus. Put her directly in the hands of Asklepios. I'm afraid to touch her myself, although I'm a follower of the god, one of the Asklepiadai." Melaina realized this intimated that he was a direct descendent of Asklepios.
Kleito stepped forward, her sour face cracked by a smile. "Precisely my thought."
Podaleirius again turned to Melaina. "I can provide you with some preventive measures. Stay indoors, avoid a south wind. Here at Eleusis, you're protected by the mountains to the north but subject to southern winds off the sea. The hill provides little protection." He trailed off for a moment, seemed to lose his train of thought. "Because of this," he continued, "inhabitants of Eleusis have heads clogged with phlegm, which aggravates the maiden's problem. It also disrupts other internal organs. Their constitution is flabby. They tolerate neither food nor drink. Women are susceptible to vaginal discharge and miscarriages. Men are sterile, suffer from dysentery and fevers; boys experience dropsy of the testicles."
Melaina noticed her mother flinch, catch her breath, when the physician mentioned miscarriages, and she wondered why he'd added the bit about male anatomy.
He again turned to Kleito. "Your simultaneous treatment of the maiden with hellebore and Herakleia was brutal but courageous. If she was to be cured at all by them that would have certainly done it."
Kleito smiled, beamed at this redemption.
Podaleirius turned to Melaina. "Until you go to Epidaurus, avoid sleeping on the ground. That's particularly bad for adolescents. Nor should you sleep on your back. Avoid whirling wheels. They can cause paroxysmos. I could bleed you, but that is better accomplished in the spring. Maintain a light diet. Eat the meat of young he-goats, lambs, pigs, and dogs. Avoid foods that produce constipation or flatulence. Absolutely no mushrooms. No wine. Instead dilute honey in a little vinegar." He searched his bag for a moment and produced a vial from which he poured a powder into a terracotta cup. "Sniff this to provoke sneezing before bed."
The physician closed his bag and prepared to leave. He spoke quietly to Hygieiadora before addressing the Hierophant whom he'd ignored throughout his examination. "Let us not forget, the gods are the real physicians. We but exercise their wisdom. Don't delay the trip to Epidaurus." He looked at Myrrhine. "Her life could depend on it."
With that, the physician and his assistant left the room, the Hierophant leading them, leaning heavily on his staff, and arguing the fee.
"Now, about my illness," the Hierophant said.
Little Euripides ran to Melaina, and she lifted him into her arms with a great sense of relief. Someone finally understood her condition. Once Euripides had hugged her neck, he struggled down and tore out of the room after the physician. "Snake!" he cried.
The Mysteries, A Novel of Ancient Eleusis Page 39