My mother returned from hospital dehydrated, sleepy, with a prescription for a double dose of ensure, which is a particularly horrible plastic food they like to give old people, a double dose of a surgical grade antacid to counteract the effects of an injection to dissolve her giant blood clot and a double dose of laxative. She had been on a saline drip which had caused her right arm to basically be one huge bruise. She lasted about two days before starting to sleep constantly again.
She has been back for about three weeks now. Yesterday I got a call from a dietician who had been assigned to her in hospital, who had now gotten around to actually dealing with her case. She seemed unsure if my mother was actually still alive, and referred to her as ‘being home for a short while.’ She asked when would be suitable to come around? That is what is best for my mother, after all.
“Actually” I said “I have been kind of passively studying herbalism and wellness for most of my life, and I have put her on a high calorie alkaline diet. She doesn’t need ensure, she doesn’t need laxatives, and she really doesn’t need the antacid, which in its description includes sore joints, confusion and a contraindication with her heart tablet. So we really don’t need you.”
“What is she eating?” the dietician seemed concerned.
“Raw chocolate, various grasses, a few seaweeds and some herbs. She also gets seven portions of fruit and vegetables a day. She has put on some weight, her skin problems have improved, she is alert, and she is no longer screwing herself up to the right. We are doing fine. She tried some porridge the other morning, but she really prefers what I am giving her.”
The dietician seemed dumbfounded. “Does she have a choice?” She tried to regain control of this dangerous situation.
Given that my mother had stopped eating altogether, this seemed a bit cheeky, so I salved her ego by prattling on about holistic treatment of dementia, and how my mother has not only surpassed the expected life expectancy by five years, but retained her capacity until very recently. She has always been rather dismissive of my health interest. She is really quite keen on it now that she is drinking a drink that tastes of salted caramel (today, tomorrow’s is cherry bakewell flavour) but actually contains a host of supernutrients and the optimum antioxidants possible, in addition to her seven a day.
My mother has improved by the day, to the point that memories from nine years ago that she has never acknowledged have returned, and she now asks for things and has regained her grip. All because I made a giant vat full of supermix when I was raw. It is the best four hundred I have ever spent.
Supermix has 80 ingredients, a mixture of Wolfe suggestions and old European remedies. I really made it for me, since she didn’t like the idea of health food, and when I lived on it for 5 weeks my very grumpy neighbour told me it was the best I had ever looked. Evidently I did something right.
My friend, who was also disparaging about my brief healthy period, is now building up his own supermix, and I am in the process of discarding the ‘normal’ food and trying to regain my former glow.
It just goes to show, when people ignore what you are saying, belittle your attempts to take care of yourself when you are taking care of others, and participate in their own bullshit, you really should just shut the door and get on with it, because usually, you are right.