David Wolfe ‘Woo’ versus the NHS Dietitican

So, let me get something straight before I start, since readers now are obviously not the same people who were reading me before.

I owe Wolfe a favour.  I owed Wolfe a favour before we even spoke.  After I got a seemingly rare glimpse of a real person, he decided I was a threat to him and so we have established that Wolfe and I do not get on.  If you take a look at the other pages on the site, you will see I have devoted my recent artwork development phase to Wolfe, simply to get his name on about fifty more sites in the course of advertising my books and artwork.  So, I have sort of returned my favour, although Wolfe certainly didn’t make me feel particularly valuable as I did it.  So, despite the favour being my mother and I being alive, as such being a pretty big favour, I feel I have sort of worked a bit to pay it off.

Since I have never paid him a penny for anything, I am sure Wolfe will feel that this is debatable, but fuck it.  I may not have finished the blockbuster due to general self-doubt, caused in no small part to Wolfe being a paranoid dick, but I have done what I can with the emotional baggage available to me.

Having said all that, here is a typical article from a rational person about Wolfe:



Feel free to read this, and the follow up before you continue with today’s post.  It is the usual superficial understanding of what Wolfe does, whether it is witting or unwitting on his part.  Yes, he is driven, yes, he likes money, yes, he has the toughest shell I have ever come across but here’s the thing – if Wolfe was not spectacular, obsessed and an ardent follower of the Jim Rohn school of shameless self-promotion, I would never have heard of him.  I and thousands of others would never have had the confidence to spend several hundred hours researching nutrition, and I am sure I am not the only person who would have suffered as a result.

No, life isn’t perfect and yes, natural health is an expensive habit to get into.

However, if you rely on science, conventional medicine and labels to tell you what is and is not good for you you are likely to have a shorter and more miserable life.

This week, I was sent an NHS qualified dietician to tell me that I was not feeding my mother properly.  You can see in the previous posts what has just happened with my mother.  She was sent home to me dying, on the basis that she would be here for a few weeks and then be taken off to be sedated to death under the NHS ‘Liverpool’ care plan.  She had lost contact with her legs, her organs were shutting down, her white cell count was on the decline.  She was not in a good way.

The Social Work Department have made a point of not understanding that it is her unconventional diet that has reversed this, to the point that she is now functioning better than she has in years, on a nutrition plan which was devised partly from my dear friend Wolfe, and partly from my own interest in herbalism and nutrition via wherever I can get relevant information.  So, she has Ayuverdic, Chinese medicine, Middle Eastern, and bodybuilder’s approaches in her mix.  She is now able to communicate with her legs, she has formed muscle where there was merely teabag skin and bone, and she can do sit ups.

Because the district nursing service and social work department have never come across a 90 year old getting well, it has taken two months even to get the services I do want.  I have finally scored a physiotherapist to inspect my work and hopefully enhance it in a couple of days time.  The dietitian however, was sent to stop me feeding my mother properly.

I am told that old people eat mince and potatoes. My family apparently believe that my mother eats this.  As a former Michelin level chef, my mother has not been fed crap like this at home for two decades, even as she sneered at me for being a raw foodist.

“Your diet is unconventional.”  the dietician tried.

“So what?  How many 90 year olds have you come across that get 7-8 portions of fruit and vegetables per day as a nutritional bottom line?”

“None.  Have you tried peanut butter?”

“Peanuts are legumes, and are acidic.  Furthermore they encourage fungal infections.  She gets three different nuts in her drink every day.  Did you know that one Brazil nut contains your entire daily requirement of Selenium?  Do you know how important Selenium is?”

She looked blank.

“I also have a very high grade B12 supplement which she takes under her tongue.”

“All old people have a B12 deficiency, we don’t bother about that.”

WTF  The NHS does not bother about B12 deficiency?  I also had the GP ask me where the carbohydrates were in a drink consisting of Superfoods, fruit, vegetables and honey.  What the actual fuck are they teaching these people?

“You do know that the stuff they tell you, that dairy products are for calcium and meat is for iron and protein is all shite don’t you?”  I tried “I was anaemic and covered in psoriasis until I tried upping things to ten a day?”

She looked blank again.

“Besides which, my mother is neither vegan nor vegetarian.  Her diet is based on raw food principles because that is the better diet. What are you finding unconventional about this?”

Much as I would like to say that veganism suits everyone, generations of meat eating has made the Scottish person more capable of functioning best at about 80 percent, with a bit of fish on top of your raw diet.  This, I had imagined, would render my mother safe from the bullshitters that the NHS apparently employ.

“Where does she get her protein?”  At last a sensible question.

“Apart from the eggs and fish, she has chia, hemp protein, pea protein, spirulina, linseeds, ground flax in case she cannot crack the linseeds, pumpkin seeds, three kinds of nuts per day.  I am also tweaking her amino acids and hormone levels this week in an effort to encourage her to absorb more protein, since you are still hassling me.”

“Your mother likes cake.”  she finally tried, after whispering to my mother in an effort to force a confession that indeed, she would rather be over medicated and murdered by the NHS than eat properly.  Having ascertained that my mother does indeed hate mince, and lentil soup, she was reduced to accusing me of failing to feed her sufficient cake.

“Her drinks taste of cake every day, they are quite sweet you know.”

“Oh, do they taste different?”

So, the educated dietician had apparently assumed that a drink made from fruit would taste like a juicy fruit chewing gum, apparently.  Such is the level of salad dodging in the UK.

After an hour of this bullshit, she gave up and told me that she could find nothing wrong with my mother’s diet, but that she was not allowed by the NHS to say so.

As Wolfe says, medicine that you put in your mouth or on your skin is food, just as eating deep-fried candy bars fails to heal you, medicine does not always do what it says on the tin. The consultant from the hospital who prescribed my mother a pro-inflammatory antacid to counteract the effects of an acid promoting injection to clear her clot, knowing full well that this would require a painkiller and precede a death spiral, did so on the assumption that people just cannot be bothered taking care of their loved ones.

Sadly, this is true in the case of my disgusting family, and so I tell them as little as possible.  I can see that the NHS is set up for unmotivated, stupid people who do not want to invest money in health, but I am not one of those people and I refuse to become one of them.

Thanks to the tireless work of the so-called-scammer Wolfe, I am entirely happy to take the NHS on on the basis of their minimal understanding of how the body works when given the correct nutrition.  If he wasn’t the exuberant, scatty, shameless self-promoter that he is.  I would not have this confidence and ironically I would not have taken my own knowledge seriously.

I am, after all, just a little fat woman on a permanent quest to avoid death.  How do I compete with someone who has been trained for years to dispense crap medication and terminate members of the public who live too long according to public health policy?


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