I have a new doctor. His name is: Dr. PJ.
Hahahahaha! Isn't that great? I had to love him before even meeting him. Doctor Pajamas! That just cracks me up. Anyway, the acupuncturist Dr. Pajamas told me I most likely do not have candida. That's good news, I thought, still not understanding the magnitude of the information and what that would mean.
I don't think you have candida, Dr. PJ said. You look far too healthy. Tongue.
I stretched out my tongue.
Uhu, I said.
So I don't want you to be on that strict diet, Dr PJ said.
Ok, I said, so what do you want me to do?
He stuck another needle in my stomach.
I want you to just avoid dairy and grain products for six weeks, he said.
I can do that, I said. Could you please take the heavy towel off the needle on my hand, it hurts, I said then.
And then it dawned on me. Scheisse. Coffee.
Sooooooo... I started, is coffee a possibility on this diet of yours?
I had to hold my breath in anticipation.
How's your breathing? he asked then, noticing my lack of oxygen intake. Is it always this bad?
Very shallow, I said, finally taking a breath. Not a sporty person.
Coffee? He said. Sure, a cup a day. Without milk, obviously.
You know when something really really good happens to you, something so good you never thought it would happen to you, but it does, and you are left speechless, in a sort of silent reverie, a humble appreciation of the magic of life and all its gifts. That's how I felt.
Miss Bruckner? Miss Bruckner! he shouted.
Oh, what? Yes? I said drunkenly.
You will have to do some sport. Your body produces too much adrenalin at the moment. Very important. Sport.
My first real coffee in four weeks:
A double espresso from Monmouth Coffee.