When things are grim, the promises made by the wellness industry sound very appealing. I worry about how vulnerable this has made me
Ordinarily, I’m a sensible person – at least part-time. A journalist, an asker of questions, a checker of sources. Historically, a big fan of research.
But three years into a debilitating chronic illness, I am willing to try anything to get well. Even things that would have once made me roll my eyes. Chromotherapy, sound baths, mushroom extract. Reiki, leg compression boots, strategic humming.
If the devil (hopefully the Liz Hurley Bedazzled version) offered me full health in exchange for my soul, I would have a hard time saying no.
And so, I am an easy target. I have become a selectively gullible person – disillusioned with mainstream medicine, waiting for a cure, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of an infrared light panel wearing nothing but a pair of protective wraparound sunglasses and hoping for the best.
