During my pedicure yesterday, a woman I recognized was sitting in the waiting room. She looked at me with recognition and her first look, albeit fleeting, was one of animosity. It flashed by her eyes so fast that I almost missed it, but it was there.
I quickly glanced back to the filling tubs for pedicures, and indeed the second tub beside mine was being filled. I was invited back to the pedicure station first to mount the comfortable chair with the pillow and wait to see if this ‘Karen’ would be stationed beside me.
‘Karen’ had been a staunch pro-vaxxer during the plandemic – vocal, obnoxious, and aggressive. I was to learn later that she was from Pennsylvania. She is part of the reason why most of my friends are Mexicans. She had actually caused a dear friend of mine to cry, given that she wasn’t wearing a mask at a public dance out in an open air plaza, and this ‘Karen’ shamed her until she had to sit down and bury her head in her hands to cry. It’s hard to forget such overt meanness and aggression.
‘Allyson isn’t it? You’re some kind of naturopath, aren’t you?’ Shit, I’m thinking, I just wanted my calluses dealt with but I’m pinioned here with my feet in my Mexican caregiver’s hands as ‘Karen’ slides into her pedicure chair, close enough for our arms to touch. The torture for the next hour and some is going to be brutal. Shit, shit shit! I just wanted this time to myself. I’m seething behind the poker veneer that my face has suddenly become.
I greet her cordially as my lovely Mexican attendant, Fernanda, starts to smear the callus removing cream onto my just soaked feet and wrap them in cling-wrap. ‘Karen’ goes on, “You know, I actually think that you may have been right.” Wait what?! She continued, “I never had a flu shot, until I had the Covid-19 shot. I was actually in great health, dancing and hiking in my early 70s. But after the 2nd booster, I lost all hearing in my right ear permanently and suffered a sudden heart valve issue that I went back to the States for rather extensive surgery to repair the damage. Do you think it was related?” Plot twist!
I recall a number of altercations where I’d been overtly attacked by Liberal pro-vaxxers on the GuanaKnow Group for suggesting individuals read a few articles before just blindly getting a Covid vaccine back in 2021. I was treated like a pariah, with lists of abusive comments, before I was outrightly banned from the group with no notice. I made a bit of a reputation for myself, as a result, and have been politely tolerated in the expat community ever since, with backs being turned at concerts and also casually in the street.
I sit for a minute, recalling those painful moments, as my whole body and mind recalibrate. My heart starts to unwind slightly with a measure of compassion. Losing her hearing completely in her ear and suffering a serious heart event is a tragedy. She’s a casualty of this war we’re still in. I watch ‘Karen’ closely as her little dog shuffles in behind her pedicure chair.
She continues to tell me all about her life here in Guanajuato. She’s been here almost 20 years. I have known her close friend for many years. She shows me the gorgeous blue rhinestone dress she’s going to wear to an adoptive Mexican son’s wedding. She is laughing, at ease in her body, a gifted orator and I have no doubt, a valued friend.
Then she asks me why I think the issues that she suffered showed up in her right ear and heart like it did? Diagnosing the root cause is my superpower. “Well, Hon,” I launch in, “It’s probably because you have some protracted heart issues in your family line anchored to the Genetic Miasm, Medorrhinum. Is there heart disease up your family line?” “My Mom succumbed to a massive heart event. My Dad died of pancreatic cancer.” “Mmm”, I go on, “Did he have trouble getting the sweetness out of life?”
‘Karen’ turns to stare at me, turning her left ear as far in my direction to be able to hear me, “Wow, did he ever,” she replied, “He worked himself to death as a ER physician.” Ok, now I’m getting a fuller picture of the extent of the allopathic influence from her prior gestures. “Do right ear issues anchor to that Medorrhinum genetic predisposition?” “You’re a quick study,” I replied. She just smiled.
“Basically, the genetic predisposition lies dormant at the bottom of your well until an iatrogenic insult (Big Pharma induced), another shock of a physical or emotional nature, or longer-standing issues like accumulated trauma show up to poke the symptoms into expression off that kind of sleeping chronic disease.” ‘Karen’ ponders for a moment.
‘Karen’ then offers, “Oh, I’ve been a naturopathic patient for years. She’s helped me immeasurably.” Ah, so she’s been straddling both worlds for awhile and ended up being bullied by the marketing, or maybe her family. “I stopped after the 2nd booster, as something didn’t feel right and my health and energy started to slide so significantly. I also noticed other friends who’d been healthy all their lives began to decline too, after getting the shots. It was a fucking shitshow, actually.” My eyebrows spontaneously raise with surprise.
I sat facing forward a minute, looking at the gorgeous purple blue nail polish being applied to my toes by Francesca. I spontaneously reached out the short distance and clasped Karen’s hand, “I’m so sorry that you went through all of that. It must have felt scary and devastating not knowing what was going on. My hope is that you continue feeling well and that your dancing days are well in hand, in as many sequined dresses as you can gather.” Her eyes filled with tears and her little rescued street dog reached up the back of the chair to paw my arm and look at me with her slightly bulgy, wet brown eyes.
“Do you have the homeopathic remedy Nux Vomica at home?” I asked. Karen replied that she did. “If I can give some unsolicited advice, your wee pup needs a dose because the toxic chemicals are way over the top for her in this salon. It clearly doesn’t have enough ventilation in here.” ‘Karen’ happily said that she did, still with her head slightly turned past me, and we exchanged a look like we’d struck a bit of common ground in that moment.
While my toenails were drying, ‘Karen’ had moved to have a manicure, also done before the wedding she was attending in another city in two days. As I was leaving, I leaned down and gave her a hug and scratched her little dog’s ears. I wished her well and she said how lovely it was to finally meet me, for real, and that maybe in future we could get our little dogs together for a playdate sometime. I let her know that Cecil and I would enjoy that very much.
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