The first package arrives I think on Wednesday 9th March. I have 3 types of pill to take and three types of tonics and various remedies in ampule form. 'Just crack them at the yellow mark,' said Julia, the Homeopath.
I put the still-sealed box on the dining table, along with my other unopened mail. My flat is a mess. I do my work, but life is exhausting. Other people have had that bad virus I I stayed well. Maybe I am fighting something off. Julia said that physically I was strong, though. Good. As a self employed person I must always be well. sometimes I see illness in others as a sign of moral weakness. (When they were all coughing on the tube late last year I judged them harshly. Anger is always borne out of fear. I had to work all through December, I wanted and needed that money. 'Malingerers, and selfish for having ventured out' I would be judging the coughers silently.)
I have a lot of uncharitable thoughts on the tube. I am not proud of them. I had been noticing how angry I got on the tube lately. Always charming with friends and colleague but invisibly angry with the anonymous world. I started to think: my father was very angry before his last stroke - crikey I better be careful.
I look at the box. Food needs a half hour halo round it and coffee needs an hour. I would need to wake up so early to take the remedy before breakfast. My usual breakfast being morning coffee. I start to reduce my coffee intake, each day a smaller ration. I am amazed, I should be wanting to get started. I am waiting for one more remedy from a different supplier - the one that's going to take the old scarring away, apparently.
It's now Friday and I should really get started. I work too late emailing and have to leave in a rush. I am determined to start the dashed remedies though, so I start to attack the pills. The caps are not just child and moisture proof, the are adult proof. They rip my fingers, they damage my nails. I am internally cursing the manufacturers, Homeopathy in general and myself for my clumsiness and lack of preparation. I grab one each of the ampules and put some water in a bottle and head out of the house.
On the bus I struggle to open the ampules. Ok first one snapped. It's in half but each half is like those joke brandy glasses when I was a kid - the liquid is still somehow sealed in each half. Did I not break it correctly? I try to pour the contents into the mouth of the water bottle. Nothing doing. I try to shake the liquid free. I wait for it to settle and try to pour, to shake. Finally I suck the halves. 'Great, I will have a moment of pure genius and mental clarity and then die of cracked glass in the stomach', I rail silently. I am aware of more than one person looking at me. They must imagine I am a methadone addict or perhaps someone with nitroglycerin and a nefarious and panicky plan. I go onto the top deck to repeat this frustrating process two more times.
At least I've begun. I forgot to mention Julia gave me some treatment - by sending pulses down those wires? - when I was there. Something for the endocrine. She mentions she expected to see something to do with epilepsy. Epilepsy? No you are not going to develop epilepsy, she explains and I guess it's some tendency or condition that just includes that term.
These are the first remedies and maybe my system will 'ask ' for that one later.
At least I have begun. First session of bio-feedback with Dr P tomorrow. I am looking forward to it.
I had the weakest little coffee this morning. I wend through two days of headache, thankfully not at migraine level. Monday will also give me a chance to see if my tube rage has subsided due to the phased out coffee.
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