The Psychic Who Cured Me

Recently there has been highs and lows in my energy. There is a lot going on with me and doctors; far too many doctors. There has been a battery of tests, a series of encounters and pending eye surgery. That is my story about the dip in my energy and enthusiasm; and I am sticking to it.

This post is about psychics readers. I was chatting with a friend from Jamaica about the good old days when we were growing up innocent and hopeful on our island home. Out of the blue I remembered an incident from my childhood that I had not thought about in several decades. The story concerns psychic readers and health care as practiced by a lot of Jamaicans in my youth.

When a person had something out of balance with their health they would assumed that someone had placed evil upon them and go to a psychic reader. Normally a neighbor or family member was named as the culprit; and a counter spell cast to return the evil from whence it came. I had sores on my tongue which would not heal for a few weeks. Mother took me to the psychic to find out where it came from and how to heal it. I remember him so vividly. He was a small dark man with a broad smile. I liked him. I must have been six or seven at the time.

He informed my mother that no one had sent the sores to me. He said that I had put money in my mouth and caught germs. My mother was to use a popular disinfectant, found in every Jamaican home, to wash my mouth several times a day and it would clear up. He then admonished me not to put things in my mouth. We went home and did as he said and the sores cleared up. The astonishing thing from my current point of view was mother did not even think of going to a doctor.

How I wish I knew where he was today to get me away from all these doctors.