Today I traversed the extremes of the metaphysical and physical – visiting both a psychic and my GP.
Feel free to judge all you like – although the NHS is not as bad as some people think. Fnar fnar! (Welcome to the Viz edition.)
The psychic / fortune teller / spiritualist (let’s call her Delphi) has something of a mythical status at my old workplace, having predicted the exact share of a large lottery win enjoyed by a work syndicate. I know how I sound – scoff as much as you like.
I visited Delphi once before, many years ago and and found the experience interesting and comforting. I understand the art of cold reading – a combination of good guessing and reading reactions – and the similarities shared by people who seek out psychics.
What do I believe? I believe in connected energy and chakras (have a couple of tantric orgasms before you dispute this point with me), and I know that some people are more intuitive than others. Even if it’s only cold reading, the person is reading you. With the right person, and one foot on the ground, I think you can get an insight into what you already know and feel. And it’s a bit of fun.
Perhaps it is a self-fulfilling prophecy, but I was impressed with the similarity between Delphi’s comments and my own thoughts. I didn’t give her any information up front – just my name. Delphi works by talking about anything that comes to her or she sees in the cards, and only asks for questions at the end.
She mentioned moving house, the fact I’m about drive another car (which is unusual for me), seeing the Wizard next week and starting therapy. I know these are general comments, but the high level of applicability and the way they were expressed felt close to me. She said that everything feels upside down at the moment – words that I would use myself. Her description and comments with regards to Polaris were spot on, and might just help me stop being such a coward.
For balance, none of it was specific and Delphi thought I might have a son in the future, missing the 6 foot teenager already embedded in my tea leaves. And friends need not start their hat funds for a 2018 wedding straight away!
I left, not believing I know the future, but clearer in my own mind and a bit more confident that things will work out.
Later the same day, in an strange turn of events, the doctor was much less reassuring. In fact, she told someone with acute anxiety that there might really be something wrong with them after all, which cured my paranoia at least. I suspected it was not good news because, for the first time in my life, the doctor was all “come in, we need to sort this out” rather than “please go away, we have proper sick people to see”. Apparently, my recent blood results mean that I need further tests for autoimmune diseases (such as lupus or rheumatoid arthritis).
Of course, there is a good chance it could be nothing – just a blip, well, the same blip over several months. I will not freak out until there is some certainty. I have already stopped asking Google if I’m ill, because Google thinks I have everything from stress to testicular cancer. However, it could be fun to see how my anxious twitchy passenger behaves over the the next couple of weeks.
Funnily enough, the psychic didn’t predict that.