Yes, I am looking after myself.
Over the weekend, I had Ho visiting. We planned to eat, drink, and be generally merry - which we achieved. As part of this plan, we went to the Good Food and Wine Show , which involves paying an entrance fee and then getting the opportunity to sample food and wine all day. In amongst this, there is the opportunity to meet celebratory chefs, which we did. Bill Grainger is a honey - that is all that needs to be said!
The show features a large variety of exhibitors eg cookware, shoes (suitable for chefs) etc, but also including some things that one has to wonder why they are at such an event. Back massagers? Hmmmm. Adult Education Courses? Hmmm. But apparently homeopaths/iridologists are perfectly appropriate. So of course, I had to take up the offer for a free consult - which of course I followed up with handing over money once I was suitably suckered in. I treated the experience rather like when I have gone to clairvoyants. Tell them nothing and see what they can find out! So it came as a great surprise to me when he declared that I have "serious" pancreas issues..... for those not in the know - I am diabetic. For a moment, I thought maybe there was something to this iridology caper. Despite this gentleman's lack of any professionalism, I thought maybe he might be able to help my increased sense of lethargy of late. He quickly scrawled, on some old photocopy paper, his "prescription" for my well-being. Ultimately it involved no alcohol, no coffee, no tea, no pasta, no bread and no rice. No surprise there - these things always seem to be the devils of all modern-diets, despite the fact that people have been surviving on many of these things for eons. He also went on to recommend some magic "powders" that he was selling - funnily enough.
But the final nail in the euphemistic coffin, was when he began to mention my moods and perhaps my need to increase anti-depressant medication. This is of course of great interest to me, and I have indeed experimented recently with increased dosage. I leaned in, awaiting the next great revelation to my health he was about to make; prepared to undertake nearly anything to help rebalance my mental state. He announced to all and sundry that the best solution for my health needs was weekly colonic irrigations.
I had not thought that sticking something up my bum was going to alleviate mental stress, although Bond was all too happy to oblige should this be required!