#red delicious was my shit until I became allergic to apples

[alphacrone]

MAGIC TOWN SAMWELL AU

Based loosely on this older post of mine.

When the charm shop went in next door, Jack was wary. But plenty of his tomes still had the residue of charms and spells lingering in the dust between their pages, seeped into their cracked spines, and Jack managed well enough. Still, an entire store devoted to mood charms and luck potions – the idea of it alone made his skin itch.

When a sign went up above the cheerful, red awning declaring the shop “Peachy Keen,” Jack was skeptical. The name indicated to Jack that it was probably some gimmicky chain store, pretending to be quaint and local while really forcing out actual local businesses. But the sign itself looked genuinely hand-painted – it was either a very clever marketing tactic, or Jack was wrong in his assumptions.

When the shop’s owner came by to introduce himself, wearing a pastel pink button-down shirt and smiling like he’d just won the lottery, Jack knew he was utterly, totally fucked.

Jack and Bittle – “Eric Bittle but my friends call me Bitty oh is that cookbook I love old cookbooks my moomaw has a dozen-” – didn’t speak much after that initial introduction. Their respective shops kept them busy, and Jack tended not to go out with the other shopkeepers from the square when they had their weekly pub crawls. Bittle, from what Jack could tell, was bubbly and outgoing and almost as talkative as Shitty.

Jack was...not.

It had been maybe two or three weeks since Peachy Keen opened its doors when Jack came to work only to find a pie sitting on his stoop. It smelled heavenly, of nutmeg and cloves, apple and lemon, and seemed to still be piping hot. There was no note, but Samwell was a safe and friendly hamlet; Jack assumed it was from one of the older ladies who ran the butcher’s shop, or maybe even Shitty, learning to bake while baked. Jack was a little wary to eat anything that had seen the inside of Shitty’s apartment, but it smelled so good he couldn’t resist.

That turned out to be a huge mistake.

Thanks to some very creative hand gestures and the suspiciously intelligent crow who roosted in Jack’s chimney, Jack managed to get his medication before the bright purple welts on his arms and face got too horrific. A trip to the nearest urgent care center later, and Jack was perched behind the counter at Shitty’s nursery, Weeds n’ Things, glaring daggers at his laughing friend.

“Someone tried to poison you with pie?” Shitty asked incredulously. “Really? That’s your theory?”

Jack shrugged, feeling a little defensive. His father was a famous Necromancer, and while he had many fans, Bad Bob also had many enemies. It had been one of the numerous things that had plagued Jack’s anxiety as a child, knowing that there were people who wanted his father dead.

“Jack,” Shitty said, face softening. “I’m pretty sure that pie’s from Bits.”

“Who?” Jack frowned.

“Bitty?” Shitty sighed. “Bittle- you know, cute as shit, owns Peachy Keen. His whole schtick is charms and spells that aren’t disgusting – infused in desserts, snacks, drinks. Pie is, like, his forte, man.”

“Oh,” Jack said, feeling a mixture of relief, embarrassment, and irritation. “It’s sort of rude to just give someone an infused pie without telling them what it is.”

“Yeah, you got me there,” Shitty said, scratching at his jaw. “That doesn’t seem like Bits at all. Want me to talk to him about it?”

Jack thought about it for a moment, then shook his head. “No, I don’t want to make him feel bad for almost killing me.”

Shitty laughed again and slapped Jack on the back. “You’re not that allergic, dude. But I gotta ask – how was the pie? What flavor was it?”

With a long-suffering sigh, Jack said, “Aside from the hives all over my skin, it was the best thing I’ve ever eaten.” Shitty gave him a wide, knowing grin. “And apple. The pie was apple.”

“Hmm, good fortune,” Shitty said. “That’s usually what he puts in those.”

Jack snorted. “I guess from a certain perspective,” he said. “I was pretty damn fortunate.”

“That’s the spirit, brah,” Shitty said, nudging Jack with his elbow. “Now come help me water the herbs. Those babies have missed you.”

When Jack got home that evening, the chimney crow was waiting for him outside the shop. In its beak it held a small, torn note. Hesitantly, Jack reached out and took it. The crow gave him an appraising look and flew off, leaving Jack feeling very nervous as he unfolded the cheerful, yellow paper.

Everyone in the square’s tried a pie but you! Hope you like apple & fortune – it’s one of my best. See you around, neighbor :) - Bittle

Despite himself, Jack smiled. So Bittle had sent a note – and that damn chimney crow had nicked it. The grudge he’d been harboring towards the man lessened in intensity; the grudge he now bore for the crow doubled.

“You’ll be lucky if I don’t call an exterminator,” he called up at the roof where the crow’s nest hid. “I mean it.”

The crow did not respond, but Jack hadn’t really expected it to. He sighed and tucked the note into his pocket, ready to collapse face-first into his bed and sleep off the terrible day.

He wouldn’t remember how it happened in the morning, but the note was stuck to his refrigerator, right next to the ice maker. It stayed there for a long time.

It quickly became evident that, for the first time in his loud, obnoxious life, Shitty Knight had not intervened in Jack’s business.

Unfortunately, this meant another pie appeared on Jack’s stoop a week after his trip to the hospital.

The note taped to the tin was intact this time, written on light orange paper. Jack wondered idly how many colors of paper Bittle had in his shop, then realized he had never even seen the inside of Peachy Keen. The whole place could be covered in different shades of colored paper, and Jack wouldn’t have the faintest clue.

He was almost certain the air in that shop alone would be enough to break him out, which he definitely wanted to avoid in front of the cute baker.

Strawberries, cream, & focus, the note read. Mr. Crappy at the nursery buys a slice every time he needs to focus on paperwork. Of course, you don’t seem to need the help in that department! Hope you enjoy, and stop by soon! -ERB

Careful not to touch the crust, Jack picked up the pie and deposited it on the first flat surface in his store – the front counter. He didn’t want to just throw it out, but being near the thing, so chock full of pixie dust, was making Jack uneasy.

Though not all magic came from pixie dust, it was a large component in most Western spells, charms, and potions. It was potent, cheap to produce, and incredibly flexible in use.

And Jack Zimmermann was allergic to it.

Pixie dust allergies were not unheard of, but they were pretty rare. In his studies, Jack had found they occurred more frequently in East Asian and Southern African countries, where pixies were not native and their dust less commonly used. As a child he’d dreamt of running away to Antarctica, where it was too cold for pixies to survive, and he could live totally free from the fear of reaction with the penguins and the seals.

Jack sighed and glanced at the pie, tucking the note into his wallet so it wouldn’t get lost. He had a few minutes this morning before he needed to start his opening routine, so Jack grabbed the pie again and decided he'd take it over to Ransom and Holster, who ran the popular bar and grill, the Haus. They were also the leaders of Samwell’s very own werewolf pack, and therefore ate...a lot. As did their pack mates. The pie wouldn't last five minutes at their place.

Hesitation tugged at the back of Jack’s mind. It felt rude just getting rid of a pie specially made for Jack, but he certainly couldn't eat it. He needed to express gratitude somehow.

A small collection of antique cookbooks caught Jack’s eye. They weren't big sellers, not when Jack had colonial spellbooks and first edition grimoires on his shelves, but Bittle had noticed them right away that day he came in.

Shifting the pie to one hand, Jack grabbed one of the cookbooks with the other and slipped back out of the shop, not bothering to lock up behind him.

Ransom and Holster accepted the pie with as much gusto as Jack had expected.

(“Bro! How’d you get Bits to make you personal pie? That's dope!”

“I propose to him every other day or so, just so I can have that pie in my life forever. He thinks I'm kidding but I'm not.”)

Half of the pie was gone by the time he was back out of the door, and Jack breathed easier with its hauntingly delicious aroma far behind him. His anxiety spiked again as he remembered the book in his hand, and Jack scrambled to pull a piece of scrap paper – the back of a Jiffy Lube receipt – and scrawl out a quick note: Thanks for the pie. -JZ

Jack left the book and the note leaning up against the door of Peachy Keen and sped-walked away. He’d already diverted from his opening routine too much today; getting caught in conversation with Bittle was out of the question.

It wasn’t until he was back in his shop that Jack let himself breathe easy. He let out a deep sigh and began organizing the displays and cleaning up paperwork, readying himself for the day. Nursey, his assistant and one of the calmer members of Ransom and Holster’s pack, slipped behind the register with two minutes to spare, nose stuck in a well-worn book. Jack nodded at him in greeting, somehow still surprised when Nurse managed to nod back without taking his eyes off the page.

“I’ll take the register today,” Jack said as he flipped the sign in the window to say OPEN. “We got a restoration order in yesterday, seventeenth century French herbiary. Thought you’d like to take the reins on this one.”

Nursey looked up, surprised. “Really? By myself?”

Jack shrugged, shooing Nurse away from the register. “You’re one of the fastest learning conservators I’ve ever met. I have faith in you. I’ll be here if you have any questions.”

“Chill,” Nursey said, face still blank with confusion, but a small smile tugging at his lips. “I’ll, uh. I’ll be in the back.”

Jack grinned at Nursey’s retreating back, and steeled himself as the door opened. He wasn’t the best with customers – even Nurse, as laconic as he could be in conversation, had an ease and charm about him that enticed patrons of the shop – but Jack could answer questions and handle the register as well as any awkward teenager working their first job.

Around noon, just as Jack’s stomach began to rumble, he was pulled away from the counter by a customer who couldn’t reach the twentieth-century wizard’s almanacs. (Why anyone in Massachusetts needed a 1957 almanac for Prince Edward Island was a mystery to him, but, hey, it paid the bills.)

When Jack returned to the register, a pie was sitting on the counter, still steaming. There was a hot pink note attached to this one, but no sign of Bittle.

Found your gift this morning and HAD to put one of the recipes to use! Buttermilk pie with Comfort. Glad you liked the last one. <3 ERB

Jack sighed, heart fluttering uncomfortably in his chest. This feeling was like anxiety, gnawing at his diaphragm like acid, but something in it made his limbs and heart light. Bittle loved his gift. He loved it so much that he used it immediately...and had given Jack another pie he couldn’t possibly eat.

“Where’s Nurse?”

Jack looked up from the pie to see Dex and Chowder, Nursey’s friends and packmates. Dex was the Haus’ handyman and least flirty bartender; Chowder, however, had left his job at the butcher’s shop to apprentice at Peachy Keen. From what Jack had heard, Bittle adored Chowder. Something a little too close to jealousy stirred in Jack at that thought, so he tamped it down and gestured at the pie.

“He’s restoring. You two want pie?”

“Is that one of Bitty’s?” Dex asked, eyeing it carefully. Jack snatched the note away from the tin before either man could read it, stuffing it into the pages of his ledger.

“Yeah. He dropped it off while I was in the back,” Jack said. “You two want it?”

“Chyeah we want it,” Nursey said, coming up behind Jack. His reading glasses were dangerously low on his nose and his hair was tousled, but he seemed in high spirits. Jack assumed the restoration was going well. “Takin’ my lunch break, boss. Bitty Pie Lunch is the best lunch.”

Jack scowled. “Try to eat something with a bit more protein,” he said sternly. “You’ll crash by three if you just eat sugar.”

“Sure thing, Mr. Z,” Nurse said, waving him off. “Be back in thirty.”

“I can’t believe you call him Mr. Z,” Dex scolded as they walked away. “He’s a Zimmermann, don’t you think you should be a little politer?”

Chowder was clearly, willfully ignoring the fight that was about to erupt. “Guys, I can’t believe we get free Bitty Pie! I don’t even get that and I work for him!”

Jack knew his face was flushing horribly as the boys left the shop, but he schooled his features as he put up the BACK AT 1 sign in the window and grabbed his lunch – and another cookbook – and all but ran to Weeds n’ Things.

“Two pies in a day? Jacques,” Shitty said as they ate their lunches among the perennials. “Go into that shop and talk to that man. You know how many pies he’s made me? One. To introduce himself. And he made me share it with the Taddies.” Shitty jerked his head at the couple of kids he’d hired after Ollie and Wicks left the nursery to open their own store. “He clearly wants to get to know you, which is not easy seeing as you’ve decided to be the token hermit of Samwell.”

Jack ducked his head, concentrating on his sandwich. He couldn’t deny that he wanted to get to know Bittle, but he knew stepping foot in Peachy Keen was out of the question. “I hate Ransom and Holster’s pub crawl nights, though.”

Shitty patted him on the back. “I know, bud. But Bits is, like, the most outgoing person I know. You’ll be able to talk with him as long as you try to leave your cave every once and awhile.”

“If you say so,” Jack mumbled into his PB&J. “Is he always so cheerful? He seems really...chipper.”

“Chipper?” Shitty snorted. “We’re in America, speak American, Jack.”

“I’m sorry,” Jack said, rolling his eyes. “I can’t understand you, your accent is so foreign to my sensitive, Canadian ears.”

Shitty snorted again and elbowed Jack in the ribs. “See? When you hide away from the world, I’m the only one who gets to see how funny you are. And, to answer your questions, yes, Bits is the chipper-est person I’ve ever met. He’s, like, the opposite of you,” he added with a teasing grin. “He’s great, really, I think you guys’d really get on.”

Jack nodded, getting lost in memories of Bittle smiling and waving at him across the square as they went about their days. He seemed so bright, so sunny, that Jack always wondered what kind of glamours he used, or if the way he shone was all in Jack’s imagination.

“I’m gonna ask Chowder to drop off this book for him, after lunch,” he said eventually, patting the cookbook by his lunch sack. Shitty beamed at him, (probably) unaware of the spinach stuck to his mustache.

“You beautiful fucker,” Shitty sound through a mouthful of salad. “Wooing Bitty Bits with books. You guys are gonna get married and have twelve thousand sparkly nerd babies. I love it.”

“Shut up,” Jack muttered with no real heat. “He likes cookbooks.”

“So cute,” Shitty said, batting his eyelashes. “Mushy cute. I’m gonna ralph.”

“So Lardo’s been hanging around a lot,” Jack said casually, taking a bite of sandwich. “That’s interesting.”

“She needs herbs for the apothecary,” Shitty said, a little too defensively. “Apparently it’s salve season.”

Jack grinned. “Sure, Shits.”

“Oh, shut up, you big book wooer,” Shitty grumbled. Jack laughed so loud that the Taddies all jumped, and the one named Tango tripped over a flower pot.

Jack returned to his shop that afternoon in higher spirits and with one less cookbook in his inventory.

Jack and Bitty traded pies and books for almost a week without actually speaking in person. Jack could never manage to catch Bitty outside of Peachy Keen, and the chimney crow was always making a ruckus in the back whenever Bitty dropped by the bookshop. Nurse thought it was all too amusing, and had started calling the bird Johnson, just because “it suits him, man.”

“It’s because Johnson is a euphemism for dick,” Lardo said when Jack told her. “‘Cause that bird sounds like a fucking dick.”

“Okay,” had been Jack’s only response, because, really, what was he supposed to say to that?

It was Friday evening when Jack was just locking up the store that he finally got his chance to speak with Bittle. As he headed down the steps to the sidewalk, a bright, cheerful voice called his name. “Jack!” Bittle jogged down the sidewalk, waving with one hand, carrying a pie in the other. “So glad I caught you! I was gonna stop by earlier but we were packed all day, then this disoriented crow flew smack dab into the window of the shop and I had to rush the poor critter to the Falconer’s Lodge – I know he’s not a falcon but I couldn’t think of anyone else who’d be able to heal a bird! So George – have you met Georgia Martin? She’s delightful! – George managed to patch the silly old thing up in no time, and then the thing just flew off! So I had to run back to the shop – poor Chowder had to close up himself, I felt so bad – and grab this pie to thank you for the last book you sent! I’ve really been so interested in incorporating more herbs in my baking, they have such wonderful properties that come out in cooking, but I’ve never had time to study them! Anyway, sorry for rambling, I’m just so glad I caught you – and in person this time! I hope you like key lime and cheer.”

Bittle all but shoved the pie into Jack’s hands, and he took it hesitantly, careful not to touch the crust, just in case. Brow furrowing, Bittle seemed to notice Jack’s caution.

“Do you not like key lime?” He asked, wringing his hands together. “Oh, goodness, you don’t, I should’ve gone with pecan, I just couldn’t decide-”

“Bittle,” Jack said softly, cutting him off. “I...I really appreciate all the pies, but. But, I can’t eat them.”

“Why?” Bittle asked, tilting his head. “Are you on some sort of diet? Are you gluten free?” He gasped. “I should've asked if you had celiac or were lactose intolerant or-”

“It’s the pixie dust,” Jack said, feeling his cheeks burn against his will. “I’m allergic.”

Bittle’s eyes widened. “You’re...allergic to pixie dust?”

“Yes.”

“But your dad is Bad Bob-”

“I’m aware.”

“Wow.” Bittle carefully took the pie out of Jack’s hands, gnawing on his bottom lip. “Gosh, Jack, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed you could eat these- oh! Please tell me they haven’t affected you!”

Jack knew his face was probably bright red, but he soldiered on. “I, uh. Did have to go to urgent care after the first one. It was delicious,” he added, scratching the back of his neck. “But, uh…”

“Oh, my Lord!” Bitty shrieked, dropping the pie to cover his mouth. “Oh, Jack, oh, gosh- Let me pay your medical bills- I can help out at your shop, too, I’m real handy with cleaning without any pixie dust, I promise-”

“Bittle,” Jack interrupted, holding up his hands. “It’s okay. I have insurance, the urgent care bill isn’t going to force me into debt, I promise. It’s not the first time this has happened nor will it be the last.”

Jack was stunned to see tear – actual tears – in Bittle’s eyes. “Jack, I could’ve killed you.”

“It’s okay-” Bitte scoffed, wiping at his eyes. “No, seriously, I’m not deathly allergic, I promise. And do you know how hard it is to navigate life in America when you’re allergic to pixie dust? I had so many incidents growing up my mother seriously considered putting me in a bubble.”

“I shouldn’t have assumed,” Bitty insisted, wrapping his arms around himself. “I just wanted to talk to you so bad, but you seemed so cool and standoffish-”

Jack snorted, against his better judgement. “You are the only person who thinks I’m cool.”

“Please let me make it up to you,” Bitty pleaded. “I’ll clean your shop, wash your car, anything-”

“You wanna get dinner?” Jack asked, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I know a great, little Thai place. No pixie dust,” he joked, nudging Bitty’s arm with his elbow.

Bittle sniffed, but gave Jack a small smile. “Okay, but it’s my treat.”

“Sure, Bittle,” Jack said. “This time.”

Bittle pursed his lips but took Jack’s proffered arm, leaning in to Jack’s space to chat as they wandered down the street. Behind them, a suspiciously intelligent, happily meddlesome crow pecked at the remains of the pie that were splattered across the sidewalk.  

Monday morning, Jack arrived at his shop to find another pie sitting on the stoop. The note on top was robin’s egg blue and read: Sterilized my kitchen. Bought all new utensils. There is not a speck of pixie dust in this pie. I hope you enjoy blackberry, Mr. Zimmermann.

Jack smiled to himself and picked up the pie, breathing in its scent.  Even without pixie dust, everything about it smelled magical.

Careful not to drop it, Jack unlocked the door with his free hand and shouldered his way into the store. He went straight back to his small, personal office and stowed the pie inside. This was one treat he would not be sharing.

[suchawonderfullife]

Day 9-10: Weird symptoms, food sensitivities and the four quadrants of healing.

The photo above is all my supplements to date. You���ll see it’s grown significantly since the last photo of these were posted. I’ll explain them in more detail shortly. I have now ended my second week of treatment at Hansa. Most patients do a 2 week program and then return home with an ongoing program until their check-up, which they recommend you do within 3 months of your first visit. You need to go back for a tune-up to get the most benefit. For me, I’m doing 4 weeks of treatment because I have travelled internationally and I requested this, I also can’t return to the clinic until 5 months after this visit. But I’ll be looking forward to seeing my progress and then tackling the next things on my list of problems when I return, so that my recovery is ongoing. You cannot expect to get well from a few weeks in a clinic and simply return to your normal life. Coming to Hansa is like giving your body a huge jump-start towards recovery, but a lot of the work needs to be done once you return home (and that’s common sense). 

I’ve had a rollercoaster of a week. As I wrote in previous entries, it started with some craziness from the fascia treatment done to my brain. It then transitioned to significant liver and spleen pain, lethargy and fatigue. My Dr had to back me off some of the in-house detox therapies to give my organs a break. I missed 3 therapies in one day to give my body a rest. The next day I was supposed to miss those 3 treatments again. However, I woke up feeling only tired and no pain, so I was keen to get back into the centre and back into the therapies. I rang the front desk and asked them to ask my Dr if he could put the therapies he took off, back onto my program. He put 2 of the 3 therapies back on, so I went in earlier than I was scheduled to get them under way. Unfortunately the PEMF caused my stomach strife again and I had also developed a new, scary symptom. Twice that morning I went to the bathroom and saw blood in my stools. It was enough to go “oh wow, yup that’s definitely blood!” 

Being a little freaked out, I was trying to work out who to tell in the clinic to get them to talk to my Dr. My appointment with him wasn’t until 2pm so I didn’t know how serious this was and if I should stop therapies until I see him. Luckily I found him standing outside his office and told him what was going on. He told me to just skip sauna as we didn’t want to create more circulation in my body and he wasn’t too alarmed. 

So in my appointment he explained that the blood in my stools is a symptom he has seen in some patients before. Because parasites are my number 1 problem, a die off of parasites can sometimes cause this issue. He explained that parasites leech onto the intestinal walls and they feed off blood. So a pocket of them may have been killed off, releasing their suction and thus some blood to come out. He told me signs to watch out for that would mean it is serious and I would need to go the hospital, but he really didn’t think it would get to that. He just told me it was best to stop sauna and PEMF for now and to keep an eye on it. (It’s been 2 days since that appointment and I no longer have any signs of blood, so this is good!)

My Dr has put me on a few new remedies as well. One is a concoction of b6 and b12. My blood tests showed I was very low in either b6, b9 or b12. His bioreasonance testing showed that b9 was not an issue, but the other 2 were. I have b12 injections daily, but he is trying to take me off injections because of the significant amount of scar tissue it is creating on my stomach. Now with this remedy, I do not need b12 injections. 

He also made me a topical remedy for empathy. This may sound weird, however if you are chronically ill I’m sure you’ll relate. Most people that are chronically ill are empaths. That means we feel other people’s energies and emotions as if it were our own. We are highly sensitive and often care deeply for others. My Dr said “if I was an empath, I would be on that table just as sick as you.” Meaning he would be absorbing the energies of all his sick patients. He said “there are 3 types of people: sponges, projectors and neutrals.” Obviously my Dr is a neutral, and so is my partner as his energy helps keep me grounded. I am a sponge because I easily absorb other people’s energies and take on their worries. He talked about sick people often being sponges or projectors. Where there are the types that hide their illness and people really never know how sick they truly are (he said that’s what I do) and then there are projectors who will openly tell you about the horrible symptoms they’ve had that day in great detail, in an attempt to seek sympathy. We all know people in our lives that like, who vent or unload their worries. Yet these people are toxic for me. 

I was saying to him about having a sick relative back home right now that was causing me some worry. They became ill a week before I left to come here and my mum is the one taking care of them whilst they recover. I talked about worrying about my mum, although she is strong and often stoic, I wonder how she copes with something so difficult and upsetting. My Dr said that my mum and I would be “linked” and that it would be normal for me to feel worry for her. But feeling the worry of others is not good for me. So he created a remedy with essential oils, through his scanning method and that my body responded well to, to cope with being so empathic. Twice a day I have to rub a drop of this mixture on my sternum. 

-FOOD SENSITIVITIES-

In my appointment yesterday we went through food sensitivities. This was a little shocking. My dr explained that all foods have an energy/frequency. Being intolerant to a food isn’t about the food itself, but my bodies ability to process/understand that foods particular frequency (that’s how I remember it in my head anyway). When I started seeing my CFS Dr 8 years ago, I was tested for food sensitivities and tested positive to: Gluten, dairy (casein not lactose), fructose, soy, rye, eggs, melons, celery and durum wheat. I thought that was a long and annoying list to work with. Now my health is better, I simply try to avoid gluten, dairy and onions (other fructose seems fine). 

Here is the list of food sensitivities my Dr. diagnosed me with yesterday:  Saccharine, banana, carrots, red wine, prawns, oregano, sugar, chocolate, wheat and gluten, nitrates, beer, halibut, dates, corn, coffee, lobster, grapefruit, eggs, onion, salmon, olives, tofu, oranges, goats cheese, lemon, asparagus, strawberries, alfalfa, yellow squash, beet greens, blueberries, red delicious apples, star anise, walnuts, tangerine, almonds, papaya and cream cheese.  Now for my list of EMOTIONAL food sensitivities:  Sesame seeds, oregano, chicken, coconut, american cheese, honey, peaches, cinnamon, feta cheese, brussel sprouts, cheddar cheese, green beans, raspberries and snow peas. 

Like holy shit right? And what are emotional food sensitivities you ask? I thought exactly the same thing. My Dr explained it like this, “see how sesame seeds came up for you. One time you ate a burger with sesame seeds on the bun, the burger made you sick and you threw it up and you may have seen the sesame seeds come back up. Now your brain has a bad reaction to sesame seeds when you eat it.” Something like that anyway. When he read all these out to me, I thought “am I seriously not supposed to eat all this now?” But that’s not the case at all. As he explained earlier, it is about my bodies inability to interpret the energy of the food properly. So what he can do is give me specific remedies that somehow teach my body to interpret these foods the right way and I can eat them again. I simply take the remedies, do not eat any of these foods for 24 hours and then I can eat them again. He said I have to still avoid gluten, dairy and sugar, but everything else on the list will be fine to eat. He did this already with my medications that came up as toxic or allergic. He gave me remedies to counter act my bodies inability to process these correctly, tried the medications on me a few days later and they no longer came up as toxic or allergic. 

So that was really cool to learn! Yesterday he also took me off my magnesium injections too. I get severe black bruising on my stomach from how big the needles are to inject this daily and it is now incredibly painful to do. He said my body certainly needs a lot of magnesium, so my Dr back home wasn’t wrong in prescribing injections considering my body cannot absorb nutrients from my digestive system very well. So I’m taking 6 magnesium tablets a day and he has come up with a solution to help my body absorb nutrients better. 

He drew a diagram of my stomach and the start of my small intestine and explained that when you drink something, it passes straight through the stomach, into the small intestine. When you eat something, this triggers a message in the brain which tells the stomach to “close” and a little trap door between the stomach and small intestine closes to help the hydrochloric acid in the stomach have time to break up the food. For a healthy person, the level of hydrochloric acid in the stomach should fill around half your stomach. Therefore, when you eat, majority of the food is covered and starts to get broken down (this is not necessarily biologically correct, it is simply how it was explained to me in a way I can understand and how I’ve remembered it). For me, the level of hydrochloric acid in my stomach is around 1/4 of what it should be, therefore when the food enters my stomach, it barely gets broken down and enters my intestine still fully formed, making it hard for my body to absorb any of its vital nutrients. 

To counteract this, my Dr has given me hydrochloric acid tablets. But simply taking these when the volume of liquid in my stomach containing the acid is so low, would be a little pointless. What I have to do is this: Every meal I have I must take a few bites of food (to trigger that signal for that trap door to my small intestine to close), then drink a large glass of water with 1 teaspoon of apple cider vinegar (with the mother- the gunky stuff in the bottom of the bottle) mixed in, take 1 hydrochloric acid tablet and then continue eating. Hopefully this will help my body break down food and absorb nutrients better. 

-THE FOUR QUADRANTS OF HEALING-

Lastly, something that was really cool that happened this week, was one of the Drs gave a lecture on a topic of their choice. They do this every 2 weeks, it gets filmed and uploaded to youtube and their website. The talk this week was from a Dr talking about “the four quadrants of healing.” This was very interesting and I felt grateful to be there to take it all in. This Dr talked about how you cannot heal without being mindful of working on these four parts of your life: The “I” (your personality, ego, emotional aspect and something called ego maturity), the “It” (your body, physiology and biology. What most Dr’s focus solely on but it is merely one aspect of healing), the “We” (cultural/ environmental aspect. How you relate to those around you), and the “Its” (physical environment- trees, water, sunshine, air etc). 

With the “I” aspect he talked about: - The benefits of tapping and emotional freedom technique (I’ve had a kinesiologist tell me this as well).  - Doing shadow work. This is working on the parts of yourself you don’t want to see. What we find irritating in others is often traits that are in our “shadow.”  - Question that little voice in your head. We all have a running dialogue. Pay attention to it and often question it to help limit its power.  - Brain dumping. This means to list everything you think about. Especially before bed if you struggle to sleep due to your brain not shutting off. Write down just words relating to each thought, don’t make it into a diary.  - Self-discovery. Work out your personality and your values.  With the “It” aspect I didn’t take notes on this (I got distracted). But this was basically about healing the body physically, what we usually focus on when we are sick and what medical doctors will solely focus on. Remember that this is one aspect, not the whole picture. 

The “We” quadrant, he discussed the following:  - “Weing into healing” is a term he used.  - Knowing what your love language is and understanding the love language of those around you. Google it if you don’t know what it is- very handy.  - He recommended a book by John Gottman on working on relationships and your marriage. If your romantic relationship isn’t working or you are not happy, this is something important to work on for your health.  - Intentionally designing your tribe. This mean picking those you interact with and have relationships with. Do not have relationships out of obligation. Cut people from your life who are not good for you.  - Hand pick your support network. Surround yourself with those who support you. 

The “Its” quadrant, he discussed the following:  - Think about what the best natural environment is for humans to thrive and flourish. Clean air, sunshine, being out in nature etc.  - Are you living in a moldy house or sick building? Sometimes moving to get well is something you have to do.  - Poor lighting (I can’t remember why this was important). - Clean vs. clutter. A clean environment is incredibly beneficial as clutter can affect your mental clarity and increase stress.  - EMR/EMF’s increases brain fog.  - Be mindful of the energetic balance and design of your environment (feng shui). 

He ended the lecture by stating that we should be “integrally informed.” This means to simply be aware of each quadrant of healing, make note of any deficiencies in those quadrants and begin to work on them. He also said you can look up “integral theory” on wikipedia and there is a book called “Integral vision.” 

-MEETING DR. JERNIGAN-

I have finished my week on a high. My friends I made at the clinic who started treatment when I did, have now gone home to continue their wellness journey. I was sad to say goodbye and a new influx of patients will start this Monday. I feel incredibly grateful to be given extra time at the clinic, as my friends were anxious and sad to go home and expressing how much they wish they could have extra time like I was getting. Most of these patients are from the USA, so 2 weeks is the standard, but it does go very fast. Hansa is also like this little “wellness bubble” where you feel so safe, understood and supported. I understand the apprehension to leave that space and I will be feeling as they did in 2 weeks time. That is a testament to the clinic. 

I also feel incredibly fortunate and privileged to have met Dr. Jernigan on Friday. He is retired but is the founder of Hansa, created the bioreasonance scanning and treatment protocol. I heard he pops in from time to time and it was a shock to see him walk into the carer’s lounge and warmly talk to everyone. We took a photo with him and I was able to chat to him briefly. I came to Hansa because of all the information he so openly shares. I’ve read his blogs, articles, watched his lectures on youtube, he did a 2 hour interview a month ago that I listened to before I came here. They’re all brilliant and incredibly informative. He has books too for those who cannot come to the clinic. What an incredibly brilliant, intelligent and remarkable man he is. You can tell his passion for healing others comes from a good place.