My dad was very faddy about his health and occasionally I channel him. I wasn’t working today, just absorbing lines and chilling out, so I ventured north to The Kings Road and somehow found myself in Holland and Barrett, which is lethal. All I meant to get was a cup of coffee from the patriotic coffee shop. I ended up with all sorts of gumph.
Bee Propolis. It’s good for your um. It helps with and and. So obviously I bought it. Inflammation? I dunno. Just felt like eating some bees.
Cod Liver Oil. In a capsule nowadays instead of an unwelcome teaspoon attached to grandma. Rebranded as fish oil as we’ve eaten all the cod. It’s good for your brain? Joints? Fish to wash down the bees.
Multi vitamins. That old standard. Buy ’em, eat ’em. As a kid I used to crunch up the cricket ball shaped Sanatogen junior vitamin, a comforting taste still accessible by drinking a grape and ginseng Purdeys. Mum forced me to eat two a day. I volunteer myself to the Purdeys. I like you can still drink it out of glass. Happy to pay the premium.
Vitamin C. We are all supposed to neck one of those bad boys daily aren’t we? Ascorbic acid. Immune system? General useful health stuff.
Collagen. I’m going off piste now. Cowskin to give me luscious cuticles and to make my last remaining three hairs springy like the mane of a buffalo. Beef to balance the fishy bees.
Gut microbe stuff. Why? Pro-biotic nonsense… It was nicely packaged and my gut is misbehaving. There’s calcium in there and kiwi fruit, weirdly. Billions of bacteria. “Friendly” bacteria, according to the bottle, which is mildly horrifying.
Milk Thistle. It won’t magically fix my fatty liver but it might help it heal while I roll away from alcohol in the sharp hope I can try and outlive my mother and my uncle.
I’ve already got Vitamin D. There’s plenty of sun anyway. I’ve filled up my spectacular wheel of pills and now every morning there’s a reason to have breakfast so I can then fill my stomach with the Holland and Barrett madness. Booked a bit of corporate work today so I can be slightly less buttoned up but I’m still worrying about the old wonga. Invigilating tomorrow and then a brief sojourn to the seaside. I feel generally quite dodgy, bilious and fatigued. Early beds, long baths, rest when I can get it and a cornucopia of supplements and I’ll be back to my hyperactive self in no time.
Not now though. Hot bath. Sleepy drink. Zzzz
AlBarclay 