$12.95 / Perfectbound
ISBN: 9781608442294
80 pages
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Thorpe is a cocker. He even looks something like the fighting chickens he keeps in their walks out beyond the sheds. He’s lean and stringy, so the sudden lumps of biceps shooting up under his blue shirt sleeves when he’s changing a tire come as a surprise. Long skinny legs, a high butt and then add the cowlick and aquiline nose; it’s fighting cock all the way.

I came here because of the health spa in town. My body finally took a vacation because I had refused to for years. I write copy for a large drug firm and I have two degrees in biology, another in psychology, so I am often asked to write for other companies or individuals, and I do because I enjoy it. That plus the stress in my regular job finally caused the crash. I called it brain fever and took an indefinite leave from my job although a sudden, dramatic weight loss and sleeplessness were the major symptoms.

A few years back my friends would have been seriously concerned about my mental health for expecting a cure at a mountain spa and I would have been flooded with counsel about quacks, superstition and medical miracles. There has been a sea change out there. Some of the scientists I work with talk (with those they trust) about homeopathy, holistic medicine, herbal medicines, mega-vitamin treatments, psychic healing and other noninvasive methods. I am responsible only for myself, and if I don’t get well it is not because I didn’t try. Physicians were either in the “Let’s wait and see” or “Let’s try this, it can’t hurt” mode. They forget I write all that stuff regarding new drugs, along with contraindications, precautions, adverse effects and safety information. I’m not an easy sell.

My brother and his wife are furious that I chose to try to heal myself. They believe in cities and big hospitals. My male friend of the year begged me not to go, claiming my absence would make his life intolerable. He is charming, self-centered and undependable. No letter in four weeks, though I invited him down for a weekend. So long,William. Just as well. He would expect me to be in the big, castle- like hotel in town, not in a rented room over a converted country store.