Prime Slime

Caught up in work, Evan had been neglecting his own health. His back was a mess from slumping over computers and microscopes for decades. Bad eating habits were also taking their toll. Food was usually something out of a vending machine, gobbled down between experiments.

Finally yielding to the warning signs, Evan scheduled an appointment with a doctor. He wasn’t keen on conventional physicians, after working with them for so many years. They seemed bent on drugs and surgery, or some invasive diagnostic that caused more damage than what you came in with. A friend had recommended Dr. Nan Churell, an alternative medicine practitioner, who specialized in nutrition and chiropractic. She came with glowing recommendations.

Evan perked right up, as Dr. Churell entered the examination room. She downplayed her beauty—as doctors often do—but Evan sized her up favorably. Despite the graying hair, glasses and white collar, she could be mistaken for someone much younger. The spotless, white lab coat added to her purity.

“Good morning, Dr. Lucian.”

“Mornin’!” he replied.

“So what brings you here today?”

“A few bumps and bruises, here and there. My back is killing me, upper and lower. I’ve got carpal tunnel, left and right, and occasional indigestion. Besides that, I am delighted to meet you.”

“I’ve heard things about you, too,” Nan responded affably.

Except for the Mona Lisa smile, Nan proceeded seriously with her exam: testing vital signs; ruling out organic problems; questioning Evan on diet and exercise; looking for subluxations, joint flexibility, and posture; taking hair and toe nail clippings for mineral content; appraising skin for fat content, hydration, softness, etc. She even tested for memory retention and reaction time. Several blood samples were taken for lab work.

Dr. Churell was a naturopathic doctor. Her practice could best be described as integrative, since she employed modalities from several different disciplines. She borrowed from Western, Chinese and Ayurvedic medicine, plus nutritional science. She recently published a book on clinical dietetics, and could identify nutrient deficiencies with precision, based on symptoms and blood tests not normally used by conventional medical practitioners.

She adjusted Evan in several places, and massaged out a knot or two in his back, leaving him purring with pleasure on her examination table.

“I like your style,” he said, with eyes rolled back in his head.

“You’re getting your money’s worth,” she said, nonchalantly.

“You have a problem dating your patients?” He sat up straight as he buttoned his shirt.

“I’m not accustomed to dating,” Nan replied, as she labeled the test tubes filled with warm blood. Her career made it hard to pursue personal relationships. What’s more, she was thoroughly disappointed with men, like many women her age. Nonetheless, her biological clock was ticking, and Evan sensed the signals. He could feel her longing.

“What’s the latest nutrition fad?” He kept pushing her buttons.

She replied without hesitation, “Nutrition is a respected and growing science. It’s much harder to study humans than bacteria. There are many more variables. Nutritional studies may take years to complete and cost many millions. Despite limited funding and the bold disregard from the medical community, nutrition science has come a long way.” She stopped briefly as she placed the test tubes into a rack, to send them to the lab for analysis.

“It sounds bizarre, but most physicians know little about nutrition, despite tremendous strides in the field in the last decade or two. Because of established corporate interests and the drug culture, you don’t hear much about the successes from nutrition research. Only the negative studies make it in medical journals, or on mass media.

“Ya think an herbal balm would soothe my weariness?” Evan inquired, ever teasing.

“We have our quacks and you have yours. At least nutritionists aim at the root of the problem. Modern medicine is profit-driven, conservative and dogmatic. It’s a mess.”

Evan had come to his own similar conclusions, having worked in a hospital all these years. He just never articulated it so well.

“It’s not about one industry, but our whole culture. I mean, it makes no sense to add toxic fluoride to toothpaste, when nutrition is the key to dental health.”

Evan studied his hands, hoping not to give himself away. He had heard other health fanatics bash fluoride.

“Anyway, I try to promote healthier options.” She shifted the focus back to her treatment and worked on his back with a contraption that resembled an electric rolling pin.

“You need to see me regularly to work out the knots and kinks, and to work on your posture. We’ll also personalize a meal plan and vitamin/mineral regimen.”

“I’m all for that,” Evan said, sheepishly, then dug a little deeper:

“Do you believe in a grand conspiracy theory?”

“I call it a conspiracy reality. People will do most anything for money. You should know that by now, Dr. Lucian. Corporations, such as pharmaceuticals, munitions, tobacco, sugar, corn, oil and chemicals, offer goods that harm us and damage our children. “Drugs, cigarettes, fast food, petrochemicals, pollution…business as usual. We are teetering on the edge of destruction.”

“The profit motive corrupts us all.” Evan conceded.

“Don’t get me wrong,” she avowed. “There are good doctors, despite their contradictions. Some are incorporating nutrition and prevention into their practice. Patients are demanding it.”

“Corruption is everywhere,” Evan countered. “Alternative medicine can be just as bogus. You don’t know how or where supplements are manufactured. There’s little regulation, so who knows what you’re getting? I’ve heard some horror stories.”

“Most nutritional companies are reputable and make good products,” Nan insisted. “Sure, many American products, including drugs, are made in countries with lower standards. But, health is the last thing to skimp on. You get what you pay for.”

“That leaves out the poor, who need these interventions most.”

“True, true. It’s ironic, and sad. Those who need supplements most are least likely to receive them. Educated people supplement with high quality vitamins because, well, they are educated, and can afford them. In turn, vitamins make them smarter and more productive, so it’s a circular thing. Here’s where universal health insurance would really come in handy, providing high-quality supplements for everyone, especially children and child-bearing women. It would make an enormous difference. Hands down, it’s the cheapest and most useful health insurance money can buy.”

Evan couldn’t argue. He had witnessed the mess that agribusiness, conventional medicine and insurance companies created.

“Maybe vitamins, but the herbal stuff scares me,” Evan admitted.

“I’m not an herbal expert either. Some are more like drugs than nutrients. And, like drugs, some may hide the symptoms rather than heal the disease. However, many herbs contain vitamins, minerals and antioxidants, so they can be both soothing and healing. I know many enlightened people who are into herbs, and I respect them. There are herbal practitioners out there who are very good at their craft. Again, it’s about quality.

“I’ve met a witch or two who practiced the art,” Evan recalled, from the rabble of crazy women he’d met.

“In my practice, I emphasize foundational nutrition. Most of that comes from good old fashioned, wholesome food. Yet, supplementation is important, since very few of us eat a perfect diet. These days, food is mass-produced on poor soil and processed to death. There are also vitamins and minerals we just don’t get enough of from our diets, like vitamin D and omega-3 oils.

“It starts with a good multivitamin, not the cheap drugstore kind. A good one fortifies the body’s antioxidant systems, activates enzymes and makes up for many deficiencies. Numerous studies have shown that a good multi improves the quality of life. Indeed, it is the best and cheapest medicine we have.”

Dr. Churell knew her stuff. Her distinctions resonated with the scientist in Evan. She saw the big picture, and was passionate about her work. Nan was an evolved and spirited woman.

“My therapist told me that highly active women are the most sexual. What’s your take?”

After an uncomfortable pause, Nan asked: “Are you here to improve your health, or play games?”

“I have a nice sandbox.”

“You mean your lab?”

“Not quite, but I’ll take you there. Ever been in a real lab?”

“Nutrition labs are just as legit, and I’ve had enough of you for one day.” Dr. Churell gently nudged Evan towards the door. “I’ll see you in two days.” She handed him a bottle of whole food multivitamins and purified fish oil capsules on his way out.

That evening as he entered his apartment, Evan noticed a message on his answering machine. It was from Nan:

“There’s an organic flower farm in New Jersey that delivers. Their website is www.TERRA-ROSES.com. And, by the way, your therapist was on to something.”

For the sake of his aching body, and to get to know her better, Evan committed to regular appointments with Dr. Churell. As two accomplished scientists with a healthy distrust for Big Pharma, they had much in common. Despite his jerkiness, Nan knew Evan was on the ball, and he was pleased with Nan in every which way. So, one thing led to another.

Their first date took place in Central Park. Nan and Evan met at the East Park Gate on 74th Street on a Saturday morning.

“Good morning, Doctor, nice to see you again!” Evan kissed her cheek.

“Good morning to you, too, Doctor” Nan replied. She had let her hair down, and donned a tank top, jeans, sandals, a big floppy hat and big dark sunglasses. Her natural beauty was on display and quite pleasing. She rivaled all the younger women walking by. The park was full of them that morning, but Evan hardly noticed.

A major event was taking place on the Great Lawn. Hundreds of thousands of Buddhists had gathered to see the Dalai Lama, who came to New York to preside over his disciples. Evan didn’t know what to make of it. He’d never seen such a crowd, especially in Central Park. The hoards swept over the Great Lawn like a mist of souls. Evan’s heart opened with anticipation.

He had recently read about the great one in a book called The Art of Happiness—which affected him deeply. The Dalai Lama was all about compassion. Happiness comes from caring, and finding joy in every moment. These truths resonated in Evan’s soul. The spiritual path was about both connection and detachment, and being able to make the distinction. The Dalai Lama’s magic opened Evan to a new way of seeing and being. Evan was now feeding on Nan’s wisdom.

The couple made their way toward the stage, weaving in between blankets, lawn chairs and picnic baskets. They managed to get close enough to see his eminence’s face, and took a seat on the grass together. The Dalai Lama had the air of a child and, like the sitting Buddha, infected all around him with joy. Evan’s breath slowed and deepened; he was touched deeply by the great master. After a prayerful moment, he nestled close to Nan.

“So, the two of you plan to teach me about love. . .” Evan watched her face for a reaction.

“There is no way to love, my dear doctor. Love is the way. Love comes to those who love. This is the essence of Buddhism.”

“My life is about work,” Evan said, shaking his head. “I’ve been a slave to ego and ambition, but I realize how unhappy I’ve been. If it weren’t for this burning inside, I’d still be hiding in the lab, trying to prove to the world that I’m worthy.” He looked into her eyes and then turned away, embarrassed.

“Listen to your words, Evan,” Nan responded. “What are you really hiding from?”

He thought for a moment and shrugged. She placed a hand on his arm and spoke softly.

“Intimacy, my dear man, intimacy. Think about it. Relationships are not easy. Instead of doing the hard work, we run away. We hide in ivory towers to avoid the pain. We keep trying to better ourselves to make people love us. We become doctors and lawyers, gain power, and splurge on material things to attract others. But the greatest of all powers is love. Bring people closer by loving them, not convincing them to love you.”

Evan’s eyes opened wide as she continued to hit pay dirt. How did she know him so well? Nan continued:

“People need to connect, despite their limitations; indeed, because of their limitations. We have to jump into the pile of humanity and learn our lessons, often the hard way. We need to go through the pains of getting it right. Many people never overcome the shame of unworthiness, and it haunts them to their grave. It only gets harder to connect as one gets older.”

“That’s more about men than women,” Evan said. “Women seem to connect easily.”

“Yes, women are innately more social and nurturing, but we also have our own traps and illusions. Once the children leave home, many of us are left clueless in the world at large. When beauty fades, many of us feel impotent. But a woman who loves deeply is a saint among thieves.”

“You’re right. All I’ve ever done is steal love from good women. I relied on them to provide love and a social network.”

“And women relied on your power and productivity to provide for the nest, and to make them feel special. They are as capable of being users as you are. It’s part of being human. We learned these things as cave people, and it’s largely what we know. Our sexual identity is changing, but we’re still needy as ever.”

“I guess the first thing to do is to forgive myself and my limitations, and respect our differences,” Evan offered.

“Respect is a big part of compassion. And forgiveness starts with you.” Evan embraced the power of compassion and forgiveness. These were the keys to a new realm of possibilities.

With the sun beating down, Nan and Evan found relief under a large oak. Nan brought a basket full of organic whole-grain breads, berries, nuts and seeds, and bottled water. They could see the Dalai Lama well, but felt his presence even more so. He began to chant in a deep, rasping sound as the crowd fell silent in meditation.

Unfortunately, the mid-day heat had become unbearable. As the crowd began to disperse, the two doctors took a cab downtown to catch a New Age Conference at the Hotel New Yorker on west 34th. Nan had attended this annual event faithfully for nearly a decade. They were hoping to slip into the air-conditioned hotel lobby, but got caught behind a long line of tattooed, studded weirdoes outside. A look at the lunatic fringe left Evan anxious about what he was getting into.

Finally they got in, and lingered in front of an old, gasping air-conditioner in the lobby. Once cooled down, they followed the signs to the conference on the 2nd floor of the aging hotel. Inside the conference hall, Evan’s fears were quickly realized. Down one aisle after another, hypnotists, herbalists, shamans, tarot card readers and clairvoyants were pushing their products and services. Barley, wheat grass, and algae were the new superfoods. Down one aisle, magic crystals and miracle potions were being offered by fortunetellers. Who knew there were so many different Tarot card decks available?

The narrow aisles were choked with people. A Chinese masseuse would not let people pass without laying his hands on them. Across the aisle, a chiropractor used an elaborate wooden rolling pin for back massages, with a long line of folks in waiting.

Feeling claustrophobic, Evan dodged and darted through the maze of crackpots. Occasionally, he stumbled upon a booth that caught his interest. He gave credit to a few legitimate holistic practices, like yoga, acupuncture, chiropractic and nutrition. Many of the costumes were also unusual and imaginative, and the sounds and smells pleasant. Most alluring was a drum therapy practitioner, who mesmerized passersby with his piercing blue eyes, and the deep, resonate sounds from his gong. His pull was strong, even for the disbeliever. Evan looked away, to avoid his Siren-like spell.

With all the hocus pocus, Evan grew defensive. His instinct was to move rapidly through the exhibits, but it was impossible to make any headway. He tried to hide behind Nan, but she was strolling along leisurely; stopping at several booths for promotions, free samples and demonstrations; too engaged to notice Evan’s struggles. She tried to keep her mind open, which served her well. To her credit, most of the booths she patronized seemed credible, at least in Evan’s opinion.

Though skeptical at first, Evan managed to find some things of interest. What began uncomfortably turned into a fun time. There were hordes of intriguing therapies and gadgets on display. He wanted to give a couple of things a try. He purchased acidophilus capsules from one vendor, and sea salt from another. Ironically, many modalities on the fringe eventually become mainstream. For many alternative therapies, it was just a matter of time.

One of the highlights of the conference was watching the Tai Chi masters and their ballet-like movements. Evan allowed a Chinese masseuse to work out a kink in his sore right shoulder. Belly dancers moved graciously across the aisles to traditional Indian music; their delicate finger cymbals making hypnotic sounds. Down the way, an acupuncturist inserted pins into volunteers lying on cots. Several yoga classes were also scheduled throughout the weekend in one of the side rooms.

Still, much of the conference was virtual voodoo in Evan’s eyes. He had no understanding of certain traditions and practices. Aromatherapy was making a big splash, and it made sense how smells can evoke feelings or memories. Yet, scientific proof for health benefits was lacking. For Evan, magic crystals, magnets, communicating with the dead, astrology and fortune telling seemed completely out in left field, and left him cold. Evan also knew nothing about oriental medicine, and could not fathom Native American healing wisdom. The mysterious teachings of Rudolph Steiner were also beyond him, though they seemed profound. Evan knew there was wisdom beyond science, and that some folks were attuned to matters of the spirit. Still, it was out of his comfort zone.

After going through most of the exhibit hall, Evan and Nan reconvened near the food court.

“Look at all the nutritious food!” Nan said enthusiastically.

“If you say so,” Evan replied. “Did you see Svengali with the gong? That guy was incredible! He was more spirit than human.”

“Much healing is spiritual,” Nan reminded him. “Many alternative therapies have a place in medicine.” She described how she had incorporated some of them in her work. Her integrative approach addressed matters of the mind, body and spirit, and borrowed from many disciplines. “Tolerating the fringe is a necessary part of inquiry.”

“Don’t you find some of this stuff scary?” Evan had no use for reincarnation, contacting the dead, telling the future, and the like.

“Of course, but so is orthodox medicine. Drugs and surgery kill hundreds of thousands more patients yearly than all alternative therapies combined. Sure, there are phonies and nut jobs at this convention. Yet, most are sincere. They want to make an honest living while helping others. Some of this is ancient wisdom, and some exploratory. Who knows where it will lead?”

One thing for sure, Evan was feeling unusually vigorous and alive. Clearly, it had to do with the vitamins, minerals and lifestyle changes that Nan initiated. Now, with a renewed curiosity, he began sampling some of the foods being presented. To his surprise, he liked the macrobiotic and vegan cuisine. It tasted fresher and more complex than what he was used to eating.

Evan’s spirit was also rising, as he opened the doors of perception to a broader concept of health and wellness. Some of these new and ancient practices could be incorporated into general medicine, and serve it well. The future of medicine depended on it. That’s what Nan was all about.

More than anything, Evan began to appreciate the importance of nutrition in health. He attended a couple of the nutrition lectures at the conference. At one, Evan learned about the lack of trace minerals in the diet, and its contribution to chronic diseases. A noted veterinarian was presenting his studies on mineral deficiencies in cattle, and was promoting a liquid mineral product produced from fossilized plant remains.

“These plants grew millions of years ago, when the earth was replete with minerals,” said the vet, who resembled more a cowboy than a doctor. “Now our soils are depleted, and our seas salty. The minerals have washed out to sea. Plants are starving for minerals. Since we get our minerals primarily from plants, we are also mineral deficient.”

Nan had been taking liquid minerals for years, and prescribed them in her practice. Their nutritional value in humans was unproven scientifically, but she saw good results from using them. An occasional patient complained of diarrhea, but most appreciated the mild laxative effect. The minerals promoted fertility and vitality, and were useful against chronic fatigue. Yet, with all the vitamins, minerals, antioxidants, and oils that Dr. Churell gave her clients, it was hard to discern what did what. In any case, the combination of nutrients kept her patients beaming with health.

The try-everything approach made Evan uneasy. Scientists are trained to analyze each ingredient separately. He recognized the power of the combined effect, but each ingredient needed to be studied separately to justify its use. Granted, that would prove very costly. Such clinical studies run into the millions of dollars, and are not always the best approach to the problem. Nutrients work in harmony to promote health, and need to be studied as such.

Generally speaking, their scientific approaches were quite different: Evan was taught to listen to each instrument, while Nan heard a symphony. Besides her supplement work, Nan ate vegetarian and organic whenever possible. Her smooth, supple skin, lustrous hair, shapely contour and glowing aura attested to a higher purity. Women her age looked ancient in comparison. She needed no makeup, hair coloring, nips or tucks to cover up a natural beauty. Nan was also fit and active. Evan appreciated how well she was put together, which gave credence to her methods.

Nan’s concoctions were starting to work for Evan as well. She packed all the essential nutrients in her vitamin/mineral blend. Her philosophy was not about mega-doses but, rather, moderate amounts of bioavailable nutrients to complement a good diet. Her formula used the best form of each nutrient, unlike the cheap, synthetic, drugstore vitamins that skimp on many of them. Still, there is no substitute for healthy food, so a big part of her job was revamping her client’s lifestyles. For Evan, that meant radical reconditioning. That meant taking the time to prepare food, eat right, and pay attention to the changes.

With more than his share of new age madness at Hotel New Yorker, Evan made his way back to Long Island. His train departed from Penn Station, across the street from the hotel, but he first escorted Nan by subway to the Upper West Side. They barely noticed the subway noise and subterranean squalor in their romantic state.

“I’ll call you,” he said, as he hopped a train going back downtown. They kept eye contact for as long as possible, as the train powered forward.

Evan was moved deeply by the events of the day. First and foremost by Nan, who was just dynamite. He was beginning to benefit from her wisdom in health and spirituality. Good nutrition had undoubtedly improved his outlook and stamina, and he took to the Dalai Lama like a duck to water. By bringing compassion into his life, Evan felt more in tune with the world.

He was part of a greater family now, which was comforting. Through compassion, he had uncovered his nurturing side. It was the passage beyond ego and shame. It was the gift that kept giving. Compassion was the bridge.