A short story about palmistry, clairvoyants, fortune tellers, etc

 

Okay, so previously I had visited palm readers and clairvoyants, and to some degree I believed in them, or hoped that they were right; but none of them ever mentioned cancer or a period of illness in my projected future; so naturally when it arrived, uninvited, my faith in them was somewhat dented.

 

Anyway, one night, I just before I was diagnosed, I was out walking with the kids, and noticed a dog lying on the pavement. We went over, and there was this little white dog, covered in blood and scrapes. He must have been run over by a car. Couldn’t just leave him there like that, could we? So, we bundled him up and it was off to the vet’s with him.

 

The next day the vet reported that the dog had looked much worse than he actually was, but was obviously abandoned, as he had had to cut the collar off him as he had grown into it, and was now choking him. He also asked us to come and collect him.

 

Now, my son, Jordan, has asthma, and is allergic to animal hair, as it brings on a fit of coughing, and usually a visit to the hospital follows, so a dog was out of the question, but the vet said that unless we collected him, then he would have to dispose of him. We collected him.

 

He was brought back on the understanding that he would be an outside dog, and wouldn’t be allowed in the house at any time, but you know kids, and of course he was allowed in from time to time.

 

I was diagnosed with cancer a couple of days later, and admitted to hospital for tests and chemo, during which time, the dog went missing.

 

I had sort of got it into my head that as long as I had ‘Rascal’, which is what the kid’s named him, I would be all right, as I could take him for walks as the books recommended, and he would help cure me: but where was he?

 

I went into hospital for a couple of days, but when I came out he was still lost. Then I got the phone call. Rascal was found, and was only a couple of hundred yards up the road.

 

We immediately went and got him from a Mrs Kitson, who, as I said, only lived up the road. We started talking, and all of a sudden she was telling me things about myself, and about the cancer; but without any input from me.

 

I stopped her: not because I didn’t like it, but because I wanted her to slow down and tell it to me in a way that I could absorb and remember it.

It turned out that she was a clairvoyant. And if not for Rascal, (my cancer exercise partner) I would never have met her.

 

We hit it off and I arranged to have an appointment with her where I could relax and record what she said.

 

She told me lots, and so far everything (good and bad) has come true. She offers you the choice of hearing only good, or hearing everything; I choose to hear everything.

 

She also gave me a good luck charm: a blood charm she called it, and of course lymphoma is a blood disorder, which begs the question, how did she know that I had a blood disorder? Anyway, for the first time ever I wore a necklace, and on it hung one of the ugliest little dudes ever seen, but I wouldn’t let anyone take it away from me, it brought me luck, and I was invincible when I wore it. The nurses kept me going about it.

 

My consultant at the hospital had hoped that the cancer would be cleared up with the first CHOP regime, but Angela had told me that it would come back again, and not be cured for a year to a year and a half, so after hearing this, I had no worries. I just took everything as it came, safe in the knowledge that after a year and a half I would be better, and guess what? It worked.

 

I have no hesitation in recommending her to anyone. She’s fantastic.

 

Incidentally, if you’re wondering; the dog seemed to act like a vaccination for Jordan’s asthma and we never had any real problems with him. He’s still here and eating us out of house and home.

 

 

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My lucky ugly little dude