As I aged I went to see every Doctor, chiropractor, and specialist I could find to help alleviate my suffering, all to no avail. And then one day I came across a small advertisement in the corner of my favorite pornographic web site, that clamed to be able to heal all sorts of health concerns using something known as Pranic Healing. I followed the link to an informative site that had all sorts of testimony from people who clamed Pranic Healing cured them of everything from baldness to unintentional vaginal discharge.
What truly impressed me was the vast numbers of Doctors that had contributed their professional expertise to the "Ask an Expert" section of the web site. One authority with a Ph.D. in Recreation and Leisure, suggested that any doctor who did not prescribe Pranic Healing to a suffering patient, was a "Poo-Poo Head", that should be ejected into space. This wisdom is what finally pushed me to call my family physician and tell him I no longer wanted any dealing with him, and that I thought his wife was fat.
I found a practitioner in the art of Pranic manipulation that lived near by and made an appointment for the following day. Her office was located in the sub-basement floor of a burnt out 7-11, that smelled like urine and coffee grounds, which she clamed helped to keep the evil spirits away.
The session was forty-five minutes long and cost me six hundred dollars, which sounds like a lot, until you factor in the free sunflower seeds and chewing tobacco available to snack on.
I was stretched out on an old massage table that was obviously the source of the urine odor, and asked to lay on my stomach. My Healer put several smooth river rocks on my back and began to wave her hands over the areas I had pointed out as being the most problematic. She insisted that I keep my eyes closed at all times to prevent the healing energy she was forcing into my body, form escaping through my tear ducts. She also stated that I would not feel any physical sensation from her hands, but that I could be assured she was working diligently on the effected areas.
My comfort was so complete that I managed to doze off during the treatment, only to be awaken by what sounded like Mr. Jefferson yelling at Weezy for making a long distance phone call to Detroit. Disobeying the rules, I opened my eyes to find the source of the voices and found my Pranic Healer siting comfortably in a corner, watching her cell phone and fighting to stifle her laughter.
My outrage was so great I was only able to sleep for another ten minutes, before demanding an explanation for her obvious deception.
She gave me an improbable story about having to charge her healing powers by way of poorly written sitcoms from the 80's, and that this was common to all Pranic practitioners. I didn't fall for her ruse and demanded the return of my money. She stated she would do so, but would hold back just enough to pay for the sunflower seeds I ate, in order to come out even.
After getting my eleven dollars back, I stormed out of the building and immediately went to see my doctor to apologize for the crack about his wife, and beg for him to take me back as a patent.
Although my experience with this particular Pranic Healer was less than impressive, I don't want to leave the reader with the impression that all Healers are deceptive. Most, I'm sure, are good people with real abilities that would never be caught dead watching anything from the 80's, let alone a sitcom. My tale is simply meant to be a warning that deceptive people are all around us, and you need to be diligent in your research of anyone you are planning to give money too, so that you are not bamboozled as I was. Also, don't trust anyone who's office is in a burnt out basement.