I'm sitting at my desk on my
front porch this morning watching the October rain threaten to become snow, the
kind of weather that correlates nicely with my current mood: Is the bug that
hit me yesterday going to morph into something more serious today?
About mid-morning, while preparing
for a major budget meeting, my face grew hot and I began sniffling and
sneezing. I soldiered on, of course, and stayed upright through the meeting and
its aftermath, but felt pretty drained afterward. Plus, with H1N1 dominating
the news these days, you never know. . . . So, I called My Lovely Wife to see
if she could fetch me from the office, but our son had absconded with the
Crapmobile, which had delivered me to work that morning. Left with no other
alternative, I shouldered my computer bag and started walking home.
Years ago, when the kids
were small, MLW took some classes in homeopathy and essentially became our
family doctor (we were without health insurance). In fact, she became quite
adept at diagnosing our various minor maladies and prescribing the proper
homeopathic remedy. I was reminded of this as I strode across the bridge toward
home yesterday, because I began to feel a little better out in the autumn air.
Indeed, by the end of my 40-minute walk, my fever had almost completely
vanished.
When I mentioned this to
MLW, she simply noted, "You're pulsatilla." Meaning, that's the homeopathic
remedy I should employ if my fever returns. And then she went back to the
drawing she'd been working on. I made some tea, settled into my comfy chair and
marveled silently at my good fortune. Who else has a doctor who makes house
calls? (Even if you have to walk to the house to get your treatment.)
My fever hasn't yet
returned, but I'm watching for any symptoms to appear. The doctor is making
oatmeal.
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