LABORATORY

My electric bike saves my ass. I love it. It really gives me complete freedom.
Everyone should get one.

Today, I biked to Staples on Sixth Avenue.
So fun and (normal feeling) to be wandering around Sixth Avenue.
(Wandering is stretching it) teetering, is what I mean.

The good part about being (disabled looking) is the attention you get from store employees. It's almost like they're trying to head off a lawsuit or protect their display tables from the klutzy blind man. As soon as I make my entrance, I am attended to. I play it up.  I act the role of the the humble, soft spoken gimp with a heart of gold.  I can't be a bad person, I can barley walk. I couldn't hurt a fly.

At Staples, they immediately escorted me to a handicap elevator in the back storeroom. They sent me down in the tiny dismal chute alone. It was like going down in a trash compactor.  At check out, the cashier randomly gave me a $4 discount.

And people continually ask me (strangers on the street) "Are you alright? Do you need help?"

Which is a good sign for society I guess, but it leaves me continually swatting people away.

At the vitamin store on Seventh and twenty-fourth, I sat down by the window as a lovely lady with an elaborate polish accent ran around and got all of my requests.

She told me to take Boric Oil? and recommended the book "Anti-Oxidant vs. Cancer" by Ralph Moss.

My terrible disease allows me to become chummy and intimate with strangers in seconds.

She asked me the name of  my disease, and when I named it (I almost whispered it) she told me " Ife neveaire he-ared uf tat bevore."

"It's rare" I again whispered.

There were people around so I didn't want to get too emphatic about how terrible a disease it was.

And there was some absurd relief at her ignorance. Maybe if I moved to Poland I wouldn't have this disease.

I told my polish friend that I am now taking so many anti-oxidants I am worried (I said suppressing a smile) that I would die from vitamin poisoning. We BOTH found this funny.

(Lately I have found myself smiling for no good reason and this worries me. This is how sweet, dying, old men act - (of course I'm taking three tablets of St John's Wort, a day - so maybe that's why I'm giddy).

I went to the Whole Foods next door and bought all rice products because I've decided to go (no-gluten or dairy) again, to see if it will help. Now that I eat at home (mostly) the diet will be easier. On PLM, losing weight is a big topic. So now I eat even when I'm not hungry.

And finally, I went to CVS on 42nd and Tenth and picked up baby Tylenol. It contains Acetaminophen. Which (in theory) protects neurons from oxidative stress.

I came home, cooked a whole chicken (organic free range) and swam in the pool.
My juicer came in the mail, as did my urban organics food box. (One of the doorman carried it up for me without asking). My kitchen is a laboratory of organic fruit and vegetables, supplements, herbs, oils, filtered waters and wholesome nutrients.

I need to see a neurologist to ask about meditations and get my FVC tested and check my blood, etc.

But I feel pretty good.
I'm starting to do more research. For instance, calcium can actually cause problems for
my disorder. So I stopped taking calcium magnesium and just got the magnesium (today).