Candida! We Can Make It Together!
Two years ago, I traipsed off to see an acupuncturist that a friend had suggested. Was I in bad health? No, but between you and me — I’d always wanted to try it. My doc is known as an energy healer … or spiritualist … or guru … or swami … or something. That would explain why he is not covered under my company’s HMO. They’d deem him a certified quack.
Now I typically have an open mind about things … and I’ll try anything once. Heck, that’s how I fell in to advertising! My motto: Nothing ventured, nothing gained. (This does not apply to Brussels sprouts, however … which I have never tried because they resemble green turds.)
So I’m sitting in his office when – as God as my witness – he starts waving his hand over me with this magic wand-thingy. I was intrigued. I was perplexed. And I was starving and wondering when he’d finish the hell up.
He informed me that I had far too much wine to drink the night before. True, but how did he know that? Was he psychic? No – my liver was “sending off bad energy”, according to him. He also informed me I had a fracture in my ankle (which I failed to mention on my 36-page questionnaire because said fracture happened when I was eight years old). And he found great humor in the fact that I had recently injected multiple vials of Botox in my face. He (and the magic wand) knew that because my face was “toxic and devoid of energy”.
I was now shocked … amazed … and stunned. And even though it wasn’t registering on my face (thank you, Botox!), the doc immediately knew I was impressed.
After quickly deducing I had a crappy diet, he thoroughly chastised me. He diagnosed me with candida and immediately put me on something called the “Candida diet”. That means I can only eat things while listening to Tony Orlando and Dawn. Kidding. I can eat meat and vegetables and that’s it. Or as he put it … “steak and potatoes … minus the potatoes because they are too starchy.”
Two years later, I’m still a firm believer in the diet. To be honest, I don’t miss bread. Donuts, however, are another story. But when I deviate from the diet, I regret it. When I’m on it, I look and feel better. And it’s all thanks to trying one new thing. Which just goes to show you … you can teach an old dog how to thin quick … er, think quick. Nothing ventured, nothing gained … at least on the scale.
