I mentioned in Walking the Walk that Daughter was out of work with mononucleosis but she was beginning to rally. She went through this before in high school in her first bout with mono that lasted for months and now here it is again. All the doctors do is tell you to rest and take antibiotics for the infected throat which further wipe out your body’s resources. They do blood work until the virus no longer shows up and then they tell you you’re all better only you’re absolutely not. The peaks and valleys of feeling okay and then feeling comatose are impossibly wearing, both physically and emotionally. For both the patient and the Mom.
Daughter and I brainstormed about this on the phone and agreed that nothing was going to be different unless something different was done so she decided to try Naturopathy. Naturopathic Doctors, or NDs, are not fully recognized by the medical establishment because they incorporate aspects from other disciplines and aesthetics into their treatments. The Naturopathic concept is to treat the whole patient, not just the current symptoms, to address the present illness as well as the individual chemistry that brought the patient to succumb to this particular ailment. In simplest terms, it is the ancient philosophy of whole health.
What could be bad? There are certainly more elderly Chinese than there are retired pharmaceutical execs. We were both pumped to try something outside the mainstream except Daughter was too weak to do the online research so I did my usual exhaustive search and e-mailed her the results to examine. She chose Dr. E, a woman ND down in the Village with an established practice and good online references. In cases like this you just have to go with your instinct.
Daughter made the appointment for a day I was off from school, and I took the train to her apartment where I found her splayed on the hand-me-down black leather psychiatrist couch that sits in the middle of her studio. She was colorless.
We took a taxi downtown and then an elevator up to the minimal but appealing office of Dr. E. Daughter handed the receptionist the ten-page personal history intake packet they had sent her. She looked at me with a smile both hopeful and relieved. We both had a good feeling there. The doctor gave us an even better feeling with a warm greeting and she and Daughter disappeared down the short hallway. It would be well over an hour before they came out.
To kill the time, I strolled the streets of the Village surrounding NYU on a stunning summer day. The neighborhood was crowded and throbbing in the middle of a weekday, and it always makes me wonder how people earn a living if they’re able to casually hang out during work hours looking so carefree. It didn’t seem like anyone was pressed to do anything important or be anywhere crucial. Then again, on that day they could have assumed the same of me.
I walked past a vintage clothing store on Thompson Street and couldn’t resist the magnetic pull. Inside I found a bowling-type shirt from the 60’s that I could imagine Cosmo Kramer wearing. It was institutional beige with two giant parrots on the front, one on each side, and when you turned it around there were two more on the back. It was retro and cool and it made me smile, and now wherever that bowling team is, I’m on it.
I returned to the office as the treatment room door opened and Daughter emerged. More to follow.
On a brief rally, Daughter took her camera to Os Gemeos at Deitch Art Project for these Featured Fotos
fish with legs
dancing machine
guitar boy
coming to a subway near you