Brain scans and Easter eggs
Easter was over and the woman had enjoyed a simple couple of days with her beloved, hanging out, pottering about, dropping in to see old friends and eating lemon cake made by one of the young ones. Gluten free. There was no chocolate involved because the woman had long ago developed such an intolerance for the beautiful cocoa bean that she was now unable to eat it in any form. Not even mini eggs with a crispy coating,
To have no chocolate in one’s life had been a source of much sorrow and sympathy. People were genuinely sorry for her when they heard that she could no longer eat it, such was the physical impact of eating a combination of sugar and caffeine. It wasn’t an allergic reaction per se but rather, an emotional one. She became incredibly depressed and this was something that had taken some years to work out. She would eat something deliciously chocholately and the next day would feel both exhausted and absolutely miserable. Not just a bit fed up but full on desolation and misery. It seemed to make her argumentative. She was like someone who couldn’t handle their drink. Could start a fight after a Galaxy bar. Before she had realised what was going on, her mood would be made worse by eating more chocolate to cheer herself up. It had become a bizarre cycle of aggravation and so, reluctantly, she had given it up. It just wasn’t worth it and after rowing with her late wife after a night on maltesers and a bar of whole nut, the whole thing was stopped. No more chocolate. That had been over a decade ago and she had to admit, she didn’t miss the desolation. She did however, always miss the sweet stuff itself.
It had got her wondering about food and mood and the impact of what we eat on how we feel and it had been this that had been the true liberation for the woman. She had struggled with moodiness all of her life. She could be be perfectly upbeat and optimistic and then, for seemingly no reason, she could be plunged into a low mood that could last for days and couldn’t seem to be shifted. She was a child who saught comfort in sweets and so it was a complex way to work out what was what. In a complex world, chocolate often seemed an answer so she’d spent a great deal of her youth eating vast amounts of it.
She’d eaten every kind of chocolate as a child. Whole Nut, Fruit n Nut, Bounty, Minstrels, anything with caramel, walnut whips though that was more of a grown up one. Easter had been the big haul and because they were raised as Catholics, there was much to be celebrated at Easter. For her grandmother, Easter was even more important than Christmas because Jesus was resurrected. She didn’t know what that meant as a child but was always delighted by how many eggs they got. Creme eggs were the real treasure because they only came out around Easter. It seemed a shame that every thing was available all of the time now. Like hot cross buns. They used to be for Easter only too.
She had to be careful. It was too easy to go wondering down the paths of the past, especially when the current was looking quite tricky. She hadn’t listened to the radio for days and had found the respite helpful. This morning, she was having an MRI. A brain scan to check where things were at and she got to thinking about the first time she’d had to lay in the cluastorobic machine that made grinding sounds as it took pictures of the brain.
She’d been terrified 20 years ago. Just been told she had a disease, told to lay still while the pictures were taken, told she’d never be cured. Two decades later, she was entirely different. No fear of the machine, no chocolate in her system, no cure and no doubt that the only way to live a full and meaningful life was through the heart. She had indeed become a hippy who had bone broth for breakfast and she was alright with that. She sent out the cosmic hugs, reminding friends again that there was no obligation to read, reply or respond but she did ask that they grow a bit of hahalala for themselves if they weren’t already. She flicked the switch. The broth was getting earlier by the day. Hahalala xx