CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The next afternoon Suzie sat in Dr. Granger’s lobby. Courtney worked behind the tall white counter on the computer, the keys clicking.

A woman wearing jeans and a yellow t-shirt entered, a breeze coming through the doorway with her. She plopped down on the sofa next to Suzie. Across from them, a computer screen flashed up pictures of potatoes, cookies, and cake. In a smooth, sweet voice, a narrator said, “Carbohydrates turn to sugar in our bodies, then they are stored as fat.”

What irritating words, but Suzie couldn’t eat many carbs anyway. She let her gaze fall on the sign that read, “Be still and know that I am God.” God hadn’t deserted her. Or had He?

Margaret entered, her strawberry blond hair pulled back in a ponytail with curly tendrils hanging beside her cheeks. “Hi Suzie, you can come back.”

Suzie followed Margaret to a room with three plush chairs on platforms above large utility sinks. A brown laminate bookcase along one wall held several books and a computer screen with an image of birds in flight. As soon as they flew by, a picture of an ocean washing ashore on a sandy beach appeared, then a waterfall cascading down a lush green mountain.

“We’ll start footbaths today. We want you to see Dr. Granger twice a week and have one each visit. We’ll remove this foreign substance.” Margaret’s strong-as-steel voice encouraged Suzie.

“So far, I can’t tell much difference. I slept an hour or two longer than usual last night, but then I staggered when I got out of bed.” Suzie stepped up to a raised area in front of a basin and sank into an armchair. “And of course, my face is red, but you couldn’t miss that.” Suzie tried to sound matter-of-fact and let the gratitude for Margaret’s help tender the disgust rushing through her veins over having this disease.

“You’re throwing off toxins. The discoloration will go away. In the meantime, pick up a redness treatment powder, or since you’re coaching, you might try the perfecting lotion. They’re available at the cosmetics store at the mall.” Margaret spoke as though a tomato-face was normal.

Hardly, as far as Suzie was concerned. Nonetheless, thankfulness that she could camouflage the blight rippled through her. “I appreciate your telling me about the products.”

Margaret waved her hand. “The flushing isn’t noticeable, but be sure to let Dr. Granger know about the staggering.”

Not noticeable? Yeah, sure. “All right.”

Margaret turned on a spigot and water swooshed into the large basin. “The footbath uses an energy current similar to that of our bodies as it creates an ionic field to help restore the red blood cells’ polarity, or polar separation.”

What in the world was she talking about? “How does it do that?”

“By adding negative ions to our positive ones. It generates a positive charge on the inside of the cell and a negative one on the outside.”

Suzie got that.

“This keeps them from sticking together in stacks or clumps, which could slow or block your blood flow. Single, un-stacked red blood cells are more efficient carriers of oxygen, electricity, and nutrients. They also assist in transporting toxins out of the body.”

Yes. Please get them out.

Margaret held up a small cylinder with slits and a cord at one end. The device was attached to a bronze box next to the sink. “You’ll see colors coming from the array as the water circulates through it. Some of the tints are a chemical reaction. Lots of our first-time patients think the toxins are expelled immediately, but usually, the body deals with them later. They’re eliminated in four ways: through the skin, as you’re experiencing, the mouth, the colon, and the kidneys.”

The strangeness of the procedure played in Suzie’s head as though she walked into an unfamiliar room in the dark, but she’d do anything legal and moral to get well. She removed her flip-flops and slowly stuck her feet in the water. “Does this hurt?”

“No. During the footbath, you only feel water on your feet. When some people cast off toxins, they don’t even notice it. Others may become a little lethargic. Some might sweat, grow warm, or visit the bathroom a lot.”

Suzie peered at the contraption. Maybe she’d not notice—probably too much to ask. “I can’t get rid of them soon enough.”

Margaret placed the array in the sink and set a timer. “Relax, listen to the music, or read.” She pointed to books on the table beside Suzie.

“Thank you.” Suzie smiled and nodded.

However, as soon as Margaret left, Suzie stared at the water. A white color bubbled around the edges of the array. The liquid slowly changed tints then turned yucky brown. A chemical reaction, huh? Looked pretty nasty.

Margaret entered. “Just a few more minutes.” She glanced at Suzie’s footbath. “You’re not removing many toxins. Hopefully, you will soon.”

Suzie sat straight up, surprise shooting up her spine like an arrow. “What will the water look like then?”

“It’ll be darker, a shade that tells us you’ve recovered enough to throw off the bad stuff. Then, when your body’s ready, it will do that. Usually, it occurs at night while you’re sleeping but not always.”

The timer buzzed.

“You’re all finished.” Margaret let the water out of the sink then sprayed clean, clear water over Suzie’s feet and ankles and handed her a towel.

Suzie dried her feet and slipped on her flip-flops. Could this peculiar washing really pull sickness from her?

Margaret led her to her office, sunshine streaming through the window on the biofeedback machine. “Are you following the carbohydrate diet we gave you?” Margaret asked as Suzie climbed onto the examining table.

“Yes.” She only wished she wasn’t.

“Good.” She handed Suzie one of the supplements she couldn’t tolerate. “Lie down if you want.”

Suzie lay down and held a bottle against her chest while Margaret directed the laser toward it. The red beam penetrated it, but the ray didn’t affect Suzie. But for the light, the treatment would have seemed non-existent.

Margaret removed that tincture and repeated the action until she’d gone through five vials. Suzie sat up and dangled her feet over the side.

“You should feel better soon. I remember you weren’t able to eat many foods. Name something you’d enjoy that you can’t have.”

Visions of chocolate éclairs swirled in Suzie’s head. “I guess you mean a vegetable or meat, not sweets.” It didn’t hurt to ask.

Margaret chuckled. “Right.”

Would desensitizing really work? “Most restaurants serve salads.” If she could add those to her diet, she probably could go out with anyone anywhere and not appear weird as though she didn’t enjoy a good meal. “Lettuce.”

Margaret meandered to a pine table, ran her hand over a white box with tiny compartments and picked up a clear container. “Hold this and we’ll begin.”

Suzie extended her arm while Margaret muscle-tested by pressing down as Suzie pushed up as hard as she could. No matter how much Suzie tried she couldn’t keep her arm up. “Does this mean I’m weaker?”

Margaret’s eyebrows shot up. “No. It means you’re allergic to lettuce, but I’m going to fix that.”

She never had a problem with the leafy vegetable until she contracted this hideous malady. It wreaked havoc on every aspect of her life. She kept the small bottle against her as Margaret re-directed the energy flow with a laser. During the next muscle test, Suzie’s arm stayed up. Suzie gaped as disbelief ran through every bone in her body.

Margaret smiled. “There ya go.” She returned the lettuce desensitizer. “Start by mixing your own dressing, oil and a little lemon juice. Eventually, we want you to eat anything you’d like. Why don’t you nibble some of a food you haven’t tasted in a while between now and Monday. See what happens?”

Margaret was asking a lot. What happened wasn’t pleasant. But...Suzie had to help herself. At least with Dr. Granger taking care of her, she could try something other than bison products, sweet potatoes, and broccoli without fear of the consequences coming at her like a raging bull. “Okay.”

Margaret escorted Suzie out and knocked on Dr. Granger’s half-opened door. He sat at a walnut table and tapped computer keys.

“Did you need to see Suzie?”

He quit typing. “No, but I’m happy she stopped by.” He directed his gaze at Suzie. “I like your blue shirt.”

Dr. Granger was so kind. “Thank you.”

“Do you have questions for me?”

“Yes. This morning when I got up, I staggered for a while. It made me wonder if I’m getting worse.”

Dr. Granger’s lips turned up on the corners. “You’re getting better. Your body made an adjustment. I doubt it will happen again, but if it does, we’ll recommend a supplement to help with the symptoms of the correction.”

How could she tell the cure from the disease?

“Is there anything else?” Dr. Granger’s eye-to-eye straight-forward gaze told Suzie he had no idea she was confused.

“No. That’s all.”

“I’ll take you up front,” Margaret said.

Better? Body making an adjustment? The conflict and healing phases. Dr. Granger’s words about the body making a correction rang in her head like a melody as Margaret showed her to the receptionist desk.

Five people waited in the lobby, and the phone rang as Courtney filled small brown bags with bottles of tinctures, herbs, and vitamins. A man with gray hair picked up one and paid.

“Courtney will schedule you for Monday. I’ll see you then.” Margaret stepped away.

Suzie would’ve bet her best bathing suit that staggering meant she was getting worse. However, she’d been refreshed like a watered wilted flower immediately after she stumbled around. What a strange phenomenon.

Since she’d seen Dr. Granger, on some days, energy zipped through her and shades of the life she once knew fell over her. Other days, vitality leaked from her like air from a balloon, and she had to force herself to put one foot in front of the other. She never knew until she got out of bed and had time to recover from her morning wake up which sort of day it would be. She treasured the progress and encouragement she received from this office and hoped for good health to return, even though the process was slow and an enigma.

Courtney handed her a card with one hand and picked up the ringing phone with the other. “Dr. Granger’s office. This is Courtney. How may I help you?” She smiled and threw up her hand at Suzie. Then Suzie meandered outside.

Every time she came here, peacefulness seemed to float from Margaret and Dr. Granger to her. She didn’t understand it. Maybe it was because she could tell they cared what happened to her. Whatever the source, she’d take it. Too bad they couldn’t share their health too.

She slipped into her car, backed out, and crept down Highway 98, behind a car from… The sun beamed on the plate, and she squinted...Indiana. Finally moving again, she pulled into the grocery store parking lot, cut the engine, and charged inside with visions of lettuce leaves dancing in her head. Soon, she’d make them real.

What could she add to the greens? Heat swelled inside her like a wave at high tide. She wasn’t a picky eater. Before this illness, she ate anything and everything. Now she struggled to piece together a meal. She took a deep breath then exhaled the angst. This was her life now. She had to deal with it.

She strolled past the fresh smell of cut flowers to the bins of vegetables and fruit. Margaret said to try one food she hadn’t eaten. Plastic containers of ripe, yellow pineapple squares sat at her fingertips. She snatched one up like a kid grabbing a cookie and trekked to the olive oil and lemon juice. She picked those up for the dressing then walked to the cash register and paid.

In ten minutes, she arrived at home and stood in her kitchen. Cool air drifted from the fridge while she put away the groceries. She closed the door, and her gaze fell on the notepad on the counter. She imagined the sweet taste of the pineapple mixed with the smooth cheese. It’d been so long. She couldn’t wait. But she needed to call Cammie.

She punched in the number.

“Good afternoon. The Sun Dial, Cammie speaking.”

“Hi. This is Suzie. If you have a second, I’d like to share my ideas for articles in San Destin and Fort Walton Beach.”

“Sure. You’re quick.”

“Thanks. I’m eager to work for you. Lloyd Sparks—”

“I think we have something on that already.”

“I realized you would have a public service announcement about his concert at Beside the Bay, but I’m proposing a feature. His secretary agreed to mail me information.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Also, if you agree with a piece covering the close of school for the summer in Fort Walton Beach, I’ll start on that. I would need to schedule John to take pictures.”

“Absolutely. Bill said for me to give you the ‘go ahead’ if I liked the ideas, and I do. Let me know when you need John. Thanks so much.”

“You’re welcome.”

They hung up, and an aura of success hovered over Suzie as she turned to make dinner. She’d only made a crack in freelance writing, but she couldn’t return to that field without an opening. This one came sooner than she could have hoped. What if the superintendent of the Fort Walton Beach Schools didn’t agree with her suggestion?

She set down the lettuce with visions of the first salad she’d eaten in months making her mouth water. Then she meandered to the living room, plopped down on the sofa, picked up the land line, and dialed.

“Dr. Remer’s office. Elaine speaking.”

“Hi, this is Suzie Morris with The Sun Dial. May I speak with George Remer?”

Would he be out of the office or unavailable? Important people usually were one or the other, but the question was a formality.

“Dr. Remer isn’t available. Could I help you?”

Isn’t available. Okay, she could work with that. “Yes, I’d like to cover field day at a grammar school, a party at a middle school, and high school graduation in the Fort Walton City Schools to include in The Sun Dial. Citizens in the area need to know what a fine job you’re doing.”

“I’ll schedule them, get Dr. Remer’s approval, line up contacts, and call tomorrow. Where can I reach you?” Honey dripped from her voice.

“My cell phone.”

Suzie rattled off the number, hung up, and rubbed her stomach. Then she dropped a bison burger in the frying pan. Soon, an aroma resembling that of a hamburger joint floated into the kitchen. She created her salad, drizzling oil and lemon juice over it, and her stomach growled. Could she really eat this food and not stay up all night with indigestion?

She carried it to the glass table and devoured it, savoring every bite.

Satisfied, she picked up the swim team folder from the sofa, plodded upstairs to the table turned desk in the spare bedroom, and sat down. Six-and-unders. She tapped the eraser end of the pencil on her cheek and visualized the youngsters in the pool in that age group.

If Anna kicked hard enough, she could take first in freestyle. Melissa probably could win in backstroke. If not, she’d come in second. She’d place those two girls in the first heats. The little kids didn’t need to know the other heats didn’t count for points. If an older child told them, she’d encourage the younger ones to work harder to earn a spot.

The Dolphins had no U.S. swimmers—those who were on sanctioned teams and swam year-round. If only they had one or two she could turn the ragtag bunch into a competitive team. Irritation tingled on her nerve endings as she pounded the eraser end of the pencil on the table. A victory would be so good for the kids. She doodled three daisies and several stars on the side of the paper. Cammie. With all of the people she met working at the newspaper, she might have an answer. She’d call her in the morning.

The phone rang, and she jumped. “Hello.”

“Suzie, this is Matt. I wanted to let you know Harold, my assistant, will take my place at practice.” He sighed. “I really hate this, but I have to set up for the National Parks and Rec Convention. I need to take a rain check on church, and I’ll miss the first meet. We’ll grab lunch when I return, and you can tell me about it. How’s that?”

Suzie slumped in her seat. “Sure. That sounds great.”

They hung up, and she dropped her pencil on the writing pad. Tears erupted inside and flowed down her cheeks. How could she get through the first meet without Matt’s help and no coordinators?