A Secret Grave 7: Margot Won’t Go to a Quack


Perhaps a year after my visit to the psychic, a friend of mine told me about a medical practitioner she had visited with her daughter, who had a bad case of alopecia. This friend – Margot, whom I know through the Jewish community here in Austin – is a real hard ass when it comes to doctors. They have to be tops in their field, they have to have graduated from the best schools, they have to have a long list of recommendations, like a five star hotel. You will never get a quack from Margot, and certainly not someone who couldn’t get into med school in the US and had to go outside the country. According to Margot, this medical person cured her daughter within three sessions. “Well, what did he do?” I asked.





“I don’t know exactly. Shone some lights on the affected areas. Gave her supplements that worked.” Margot was a little tight-lipped about it. By then she had been to many doctors and was desperate. I think she was embarrassed that she finally ended up with someone alternative.

“What’s his name?” I asked.

“Well, that’s the off-putting thing. His name is Dr. Victor Goodlove. Made me not want to go to him at first because it sounds so foolish.”

“Maybe he’s of American Indian descent,” I suggested.

“No, no.” She shook her head. “I did a little research. His name was originally Gottlieb. He’s Jewish.”

I burst out laughing. Trust Margot to get to the bottom of a name like that, especially if there was the slightest possibility the person was Jewish. “So you’d recommend him?”

“Oh yes. Definitely. For things like psoriasis, asthma, arthritis, maybe certain GI issues.”

The moment she said arthritis I thought back to Gharith Pendragon, the psychic, and the prediction he’d made that I’d develop arthritis that would be cured by some sort of quacky sounding doctor. Although I hadn’t allowed myself to dwell on it, I had aches in my wrists, thumbs, fingers – intermittent twinges that worried me because of my mother, whose once beautiful hands were completely crippled by arthritis. As a younger woman she’d had the nimble, expressive hands of an artist but now they were all bent and misshapen, a process that had begun when she was in her early sixties. Not far off, I thought with a sinking heart. I was in my fifties, already an age where time moved fast, two, three years seeming to pass in minutes. I decided I’d better make an appointment with this Dr. Victor Goodlove, or whatever his true name was.   


arthritic hands

gouty hand arthritis 3, handarmdoc, https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/


To be continued…


Cover Photo ~ electrons_fishgils, V0016239 An itinerant medicine vendor known as Medicine Jack car, https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/



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