Homeopathic Remedy
Stories
I find storytelling to be a wonderful and immersive way to learn, understand and remember homeopathic remedies. I have written the following stories based on the remedies mentioned to bring them to life. I hope you enjoy them.
Sepia - a worn out mom
Sophia looked in the mirror. Who was that woman staring back? The sagging skin, the yellowish brown tinge sitting across her nose and cheeks
like a saddle. A heavy expression with no spark, no joy. Tears trickled slowly down the contours of her face. Why was she crying? She wasn’t even sure, but not a day seemed to go by when she didn’t. With the sleeve of her jumper, she wiped away the tears and took some deep breaths to stop the flow. If the tears continued Sophia knew she would feel worse and today she was almost at breaking point.
As she brushed her hair, she reflected on what had brought her to feel this way. Was it the demands of three children in rapid succession? Could it be her husband whose touch she couldn’t stand? Some days she wanted nothing more than to run away. Bit by bit she could feel herself shutting down. Surely a mother should have a natural maternal love for her children. But then why did she constantly snap at them? Her shrieking voice echoed in her head. Guilt bubbled inside her, and she couldn’t help thinking they deserved a better mother.
At times like this, solitude was her friend. When her husband was at work and the kids were at school she could breathe. There was space to gather her energy before the evening onslaught of cooking, feeding, bedtime routines, the list was endless. A wave of nausea hit her, and brought back memories of pregnancy morning sickness, when the smell and thought of food had made it worse. A smile almost reached her lips as she remembered her cliché craving for pickles. Even now, she loved to eat them. It was mid-morning and she hadn’t had breakfast yet. The left side of her head was beginning to throb. She really needed to eat, but sometimes no amount of food could ever fill that empty feeling inside.
Sophia stood up and winced as a dull ache spread across her lower back. Since her last daughter was born five years ago, everything seemed to go south. Her insides felt as if they were dragging down and could almost fall out. Sometimes she even had to cross her legs in case. Maybe she’d contact that homeopath she’d seen after her first child. It really helped.
In the kitchen she turned on the radio and the rhythmic beats of a disco record filled the air. What a great track! Her body started swaying to the pulsating sounds and a lightness began to spread through her. Sophia moved with the beat around the kitchen as she cleared up the children’s breakfast mess. Dancing always lifted her spirits. She glanced at her phone wondering if she was too late to catch the dance aerobics class at the local gym. That always energized her. There was just enough time if she hurried. Hastily she whizzed up a smoothie, and sipped it as she left the house. The warm rays of the sun bathed her face. Maybe today wasn’t going to be so bad after all.
REVIVE – A Homeopathic Novel
A PAGE-TURNING ADVENTURE WITH TWISTS AND TURNS
Five star reviews from Amazon.com
“Couldn’t Put It Down! Loved this book! So exciting from start to finish!”
“Awesome. It is well written and has a good story behind it. I could not put it down”
“Great fiction that actually sneaks in many homeopathic principals”
“Thrilling adventure and great characters – a surprise around every corner”
“Insightful, Clever, Lots of Fun, and a Great Intro to Homeopathy”
Immerse yourself in this first of a kind, epic quest, with twists and turns. Journey with Sheysu as she is pulled into a maze of emotions and deadly battles across hostile kingdoms, to find a cure for her dying sister. Learn about homeopathy and remedies as the characters and kingdoms bring them to life in a way that is unforgettable. If you love homeopathy, you’ll love reading this.
Revive is a fantasy action/adventure novel where the characters are based on homeopathic remedies. No prior knowledge of homeopathy is needed. Homeopaths and non-homeopaths alike, can read it. I have tried to stay as true to materia medica and used specific rubrics, gestures and words to bring the remedies and kingdoms to life. If you would like to know more about how I wrote Revive, click here
It is available on Amazon and has many 5 star reviews.
For other countries search in Amazon for your country.
A Day in the Life of Nux-Vomica
The following is an assignment I wrote way back in homeopathic college in the 90’s. I found that storytelling is such an immersive and great way to understand and remember remedies. This inspired me to write my homeopathic novel, ‘Revive’, where the characters are based on homeopathic remedies.
Dave, a successful businessman, finds his sleep breaks every morning at 3am. His thoughts fill with a to-do list for the projects he is working on. The thoughts persist and eventually at 6am
he falls back into a deep sleep, only to be rudely woken by his alarm at 7am. He feels absolutely wretched and desperately wants to go back to sleep, but the thought of all he has to do at work, drives him out of bed. As he sits up, the cold draft hits him and he shivers as he reaches for his warm dressing gown.
Bleary-eyed he makes his way to the kitchen. Coffee, he must have a cup to wake up properly. He breathes in the rich nutty aroma and lights up his first cigarette of the day. Now, his mind is beginning to clear. He glances at the clock on the wall, and hurries to the bathroom, only to be frustrated as constipation is a habitual problem for him and he struggles and strains.
Looking the part is important to Dave and he grooms himself meticulously. Standing in front of his wardrobe, he surveys his suits and shirts which are all pressed and hung neatly in a row. He reaches for a shirt and while putting it on, he snags one of the buttons and impatiently pulls so hard the shirt tears. He swears and rips off the offending button and reaches for another shirt. He eventually leaves home looking impeccable.
His journey to work is full of irritations. Dave is in a hurry and the ticket machines at the train station are not working. The ticket seller is taking too long, and Dave thinks his method for dealing with customers is so inefficient. If he had time he would tell him how to work smarter and faster. On the way down to the platform, everyone in front is walking too slowly, so he pushes past them without so much as an apology.
As usual Dave is one of the first people at the office. Many have called him a workaholic, but as far as he is concerned, there’s work to do and he’s there to do it, no matter what it takes. While looking through his mail for the day, he gulps down some more black coffee, and eats a sticky bun for breakfast. He is extremely efficient and pragmatic in his work, and is much admired by his bosses. So much so, that his manager comes over to ask him if he would like to take on a project that is much sought after in the department. Seeing this as an opportunity to get ahead, Dave promptly says yes, even though he knows he already works ten hours a day to keep up with his current workload.
At his morning meeting, a colleague suggests an alternative to one of Dave’s ideas. Dave instantly knows it won’t work, and voices his opinion very loudly, pushing his own suggestion so strongly, that his colleague backs down, and the group go ahead with Dave’s idea. They move on to talk about photo ideas for billboard advertising. Dave bows out at this point, artistic pursuits are not his strong point – he likes to deal with facts.
On his way back to his desk, Dave makes another strong coffee and takes it outside to have a cigarette. He feels on edge and has another cigarette to try and relax. Back in his office one of his team approaches him with a completed document to review. Dave looks through it and instantly sees many errors. In addition he doesn’t like the style of the writing and knows he could have done it much better. While he is reading, the staff member starts tapping the desk with her pencil. Dave finds this incredibly irritating and snaps at her to stop. When he has finished reading, he doesn’t hold back in criticising her work and tells her exactly how to change it.
At lunch Dave is drawn to the spicy aroma of the chicken curry on offer in the canteen and picks up a can of lager to drink with it. He needs something to help him relax after a stressful morning. After eating quickly, he meets a few colleagues down at the local pub for a quick drink. A couple of more beers will help him deal with a busy afternoon.
Back in the office, the food and drink sits heavily in Dave’s stomach and his abdomen is bloated. If only he could burp or break wind he would feel much better, but he just can’t. He tries to concentrate but his eyes are heavy and he has to read the same paragraph several times before it makes sense. Later that afternoon his concentration improves and once again he becomes heavily engrossed with the business of the day.
Dave is one of the last workers to leave the office. Even though he has left work, he cannot stop thinking of what has happened that day. Funnily enough he doesn’t think of the major events of the day such as the new project he has been given, but instead he focuses on small things like a forgotten telephone call.
At home his girlfriend has come over and he greets her in a distracted way, his mind still dwelling on work. They order a takeaway. Dave chooses another spicy meal and decides to have a rich dessert. They open a bottle of wine to have with their meal. He’s still thinking about work, and whenever his girlfriend brings him out of his reverie, he gets irritable and snaps at her. After dinner, he drinks more wine and smokes a joint to relax. Again, he feels incredibly uncomfortable and loosens his belt to help. He settles down to watch a film he’s been waiting to see, but within a few minutes sleepiness overpowers him. Eventually, much later, he wakes up still in front of the television. His girlfriend has already gone to bed. Dave feels wide awake now, and once again thoughts of the office start running through his mind. He finds it difficult to get to sleep and decides to have a nightcap of brandy to help him relax. It doesn’t work. After tossing and turning he eventually does fall asleep, it is a fitful sleep which he knows will be broken once again at 3am the next morning.
A Difficult Night for Arsenicum Album
Arsenio’s eyes flung open with a start and he turned to look at the clock on his nightstand. It was midnight. What was that loud thud?
Was it in his dream or could it be a burglar? His heart raced in his chest. Did he remember to lock the front door? He held his breath so that he could listen, but all he could hear was the pounding of his heart. Should he go down to investigate? Normally his brother was around, but he had left earlier on a business trip. Arsenio didn’t like to admit it, but he was always more anxious when his brother wasn’t at home. The irony was, he hardly talked to his brother, but just his presence calmed him.
There was no chance of sleeping now, so he jumped out of bed wrapping a blanket around his shoulders like a cape. Arsenio definitely didn’t feel like a superhero. The thought of going downstairs was overwhelming, so instead he locked his bedroom door and paced the floor, still chilly despite the blanket. He stopped to listen again, and sighed in relief as all was silent. To make sure, he pushed the curtain aside to look out. Everything was quiet, the pale glow of the street lamps revealed nothing unusual.
His heart, however, was still pounding. Is this how a heart attack starts? He had seen a doctor a few months ago about his heart, as occasionally he suffered from palpitations, especially when he was worried. The doctor had assured him that it was just anxiety, but Arsenio wasn’t convinced. Instead, he called a medical helpline and they too said the same thing. Arsenio still felt they had missed something, so he had booked to see a private consultant in a few weeks. He hated spending the money, but what if there was something seriously wrong.
Finally, his heart started to calm down, but now he had a burning feeling in his stomach. He could almost feel the acid in his throat. This wasn’t the first time he had experienced this. His thoughts returned to a few weeks earlier, when the burning had been like hot coals. It was agony and he really panicked, almost visiting the ER. Eventually, his brother managed to reassure him, figuring it to be a reaction to some old ice-cream he had eaten. Arsenio didn’t even really like cold food but a friend had bought him some ice-cream ages ago and while clearing his freezer he hadn’t wanted to waste it. That had been an awful night with the burning turning into several bouts of exhausting diarrhoea.
Maybe a warm drink would settle his stomach. Furtively, he made his way down to the kitchen, relieved that all was still and quiet. He switched on the kitchen light and his eyes were immediately drawn to the dirty cup and plate left on the worktop. Why couldn’t his brother clean up after himself? As he washed and dried the dishes, he thought of how his brother always teased him about his tidiness. Arsenio couldn’t understand why everyone wasn’t as orderly as him. He opened the cupboard to put the cup and plate back. Everything was organised efficiently, rows upon rows of crockery, some almost as old as he was. He hated throwing out anything that was still useful.
With a warm drink in his hand, he made his way back up to bed. He took sips of the warm liquid and felt it soothe his throat and stomach. His eyes were beginning to feel heavy and he glanced at the clock. It was three am. As he drifted off to sleep, it occurred to him that nothing dangerous had actually happened that night, and he had just spent hours worrying for no reason.
Natrum Muriaticum - It's hard to let go
Norma looked at her watch. Her heart sank and she let out a heavy sigh, realising that waiting any longer was futile. Now she was also
desperate for a pee. There was a sign for public restrooms nearby, but she walked hastily in the opposite direction. She always struggled using them, hating that other people were around. No, she would wait till she got home.
The sun shone brightly in her face, and she squinted wishing she’d brought her sunglasses. Everybody loves the sunshine, but for her it meant a thumping headache later on. This was turning out to be one of those worst days. How could he do this to her once more? Last time she swore never to put herself in this position again, yet here she was. He finally said he was leaving his wife and they would take a trip together to plan their future. She turned to look back and caught a glimpse of the train leaving without her, but taking with it, her unfulfilled promises and dreams. Norma’s shoulders slumped in defeat and she painted a sad lonely figure, walking up the hill towards her apartment.
Her heart jumped, as she was startled out of her reverie by her phone’s trill ring. She fumbled to retrieve it, but it wasn’t him, just her friend, Sophia, probably having another crisis with one of her kids. Ordinarily, Norma would always listen and try to help. Somehow, she had become the leaning shoulder to a few people. Ironic really, since she never discussed her own problems, preferring to solve them herself, apart from that one time when she got so drunk and told everyone. Her friends had been shocked, as she was regarded as the ‘serious’ one. Today, however, she had her own problems and switched off her phone, not in the mood to talk to anyone.
Back in her apartment, Norma ran to use the bathroom, then slipped off her shoes and placed them in the only gap amongst the neat row of footwear lining the hallway. In the kitchen she poured herself a tall glass of water from the fridge and emptied a large packet of salty crisps into a bowl, adding a few more sprinkles of salt for good measure. She settled onto the sofa and grabbed her ipad. Soon the air filled with poignant chords and lyrics from her ‘sad love songs’ playlist. She closed her eyes, the words and notes touching her very core. Why did it have to end like this? This morning her heart had been full of hope, looking forward to a new life. But now, once again, she was left to live alone in her small but perfect flat. The disappointment was all too familiar. On her ipad, she couldn’t help looking through the photos and videos of the many happy times they spent together. It was like rubbing salt in the wounds and Norma wanted to cry, but the tears just wouldn’t come.
As she continued scrolling down the photo albums, her gaze was drawn to one labelled ‘dad’ and she clicked it open. Her breath caught in her throat, as a photo of her dad smiling and standing beside her, aged thirteen, filled the screen. It was the last photo she had with him. He died suddenly a month later and she felt part of her left with him. Afterwards, she remembered family members whispering, ‘Why isn’t she crying?’, always trying to pat or hug her whilst she pulled away, desperate to be on her own. Her bedroom became her haven, and apart from school, she spent her waking hours there, reading and thinking, content in her own company. Her sleep had started to deteriorate then, with many hours spent lying awake thinking about what could have been and everything that had gone wrong. Even now, she did the same.
The next few photos were of their last family holiday to Greece. The sea looked so inviting and she felt an overwhelming urge to walk on the beach with the sound of the waves lapping her feet while breathing in the salty air. Maybe a holiday by the beach was just what she needed. But first, she had some unfinished business. She switched on her phone and sent him one last text, ‘Don’t call me. It’s over!’ With that, she deleted his details and blocked his number. This time she was serious.
A Fright for Aconite, Arnica and Opium
Rain lashed against the windscreen, the wipers waved frantically to clear the glass. Arnie’s knuckles turned white from gripping the steering wheel as he hunched forward, trying to see more clearly. Aconisa shifted restlessly in the passenger seat. Anxious thoughts
of dying in a crash flashed through her mind. Opie was asleep in the back, oblivious to the treacherous conditions. They had considered pulling over until the bad weather passed, but it was getting dark and they were already behind schedule for their friend’s wedding.
Out of nowhere, a wall of water smashed against the windscreen and there was an ear piercing screech and a sickening thud, as bright lights and a huge shadow crossed their view. Arnie lost control of the steering wheel, and the car spun violently for what seemed an eternity. Opie was jolted out of his sleeping reverie and grappled in the back trying to steady himself. Aconisa kept shrieking, “Help! I’m going to die!” The car lurched forward and gained momentum. The full weight of their bodies strained against their seatbelts, as the car rolled down off the road until its route was stopped abruptly, with a loud bang, by the solid trunk of an old oak tree.
Arnie slowly came to, aware that his body was aching as the bed he was lying on was so hard and uncomfortable. He squinted as the bright fluorescent light hurt his eyes. Memories of the accident came flooding back. The last thing he remembered was hitting the tree. He looked around and realized he was in a room, alone. Where was he? Was it a hospital? Where were his friends? Panicked, he got off the bed and walked towards the door. Surprisingly, apart from a few aches, he felt completely fine; there was nothing wrong with him. As he crossed the room, he caught sight of himself in a mirror and was taken aback. There was blood on his face and a large dressing on his head. His t-shirt was covered in blood splatters. He opened the door and peered into the corridor. It was eerily quiet and dark, looking more like a warehouse than a hospital.
A piercing scream echoed down the hall and Arnie rushed towards the sound. A door flung open, and Aconisa ran limping towards him, her face streaked with blood. She was hyperventilating, her expression one of sheer terror. Instead of stepping forward, Arnie instinctively moved back as Aconisa was about to grab him, not wanting to be touched. Her voice trembled and she could barely get her words out. “Arnie, you, you have to hel help me! I’m dying. Can’t you see? I can’t stand the pain! Please get me out of here!” She paced back and forth, trying to catch her breath. “My mouth is so dry, I need some cold water.”
“Take deep breaths, let’s find Opie and figure out what’s going on,” said Arnie as he started opening the other doors in the corridor.
There was no one in the first two rooms, but in each was an unmade bed that appeared recently slept in. In the third room, there was someone asleep on the bed, attached to an intravenous drip. As Arnie approached the bed, he could see it was a woman lying with her back to the door. Suddenly, she turned to look at him with a look of terror. She began squirming, and Arnie saw that she was tied to the bed with padlocked chains, and her mouth was taped shut. Arnie pulled off the tape and she whispered, “Run, you must get out of here!”
“Why? What the hell is this place and why are you tied up?” asked Arnie.
She could barely keep her eyes open and spoke slowly, her words slightly slurred. “It’s some kind of research facility. The staff were called away on an emergency. At first, I thought they were helping me, but instead they’ve been testing some kind of drug for shock and trauma on me. Please help me get out of here. I was in a car accident and woke up here. I don’t know how long I’ve been here, but I overheard the staff saying that they’ve created a black spot nearby which causes cars to crash, and they bring the survivors here to do testing.” With that she fell back into a drugged stupor. The hairs on the back of Arnie’s neck stood up as he listened to her story. Was this what was planned for them?
Arnie shook her, but she was unresponsive. He pulled hard at her chains trying to break them apart, but it was no use. Once they left this place, he would alert the authorities to rescue her.
Back outside the room, Aconisa was still pacing and hyperventilating. She rushed towards him. “Where did you go? Please don’t leave me alone! I can’t stand this. Every time I close my eyes, all I can see is us hitting that tree!”
He gestured for her to follow him and they went into the next room. Arnie sighed in relief, as there on the bed was Opie, snoring loudly. The denim on his right leg had been cut away revealing a large red gash and his head was bound in a dressing. His face was flushed and glistened with perspiration. Arnie winced as a stabbing pain shot through his head. He cracked his neck from side to side hoping the pain would go away, but it only made it worse. Moving slowly, Arnie reached over and shook Opie. There was no response. He shook him harder, calling his name, until Opie gradually lifted his eyelids as if weighed down, revealing a glazed expression.
Opie whispered in a hoarse voice, “Where are we? I want to go home.” He shifted into a sitting position, “That’s so weird,” he croaked, “That big wound on my leg, I can’t even feel it. I can move my legs, but it’s as if they don’t belong to me.” He was surprisingly calm and his eyes closed again, but this time his breathing seemed to stop.
Arnie shouted, “Wake up! We have to get out of here.” Opie took a sudden long breath and opened his eyes.
“Do you think you can walk?” asked Arnie.
He nodded and managed to lift himself into a standing position. His legs trembled as he shuffled forward. “I think I can walk ok, nothing is hurting, but I’m so sleepy it’s hard to keep my eyes open, and I’m way too hot!” He pulled off his hoodie and threw it down.
Arnie opened the door slightly and peered outside. “This place is not safe; we have to get out of here. I’ll explain later.”
Everything was still quiet. He beckoned to the others and led them towards the double doors at the end of the long corridor. Aconisa was moaning and groaning loudly and Arnie was getting irritated, especially as his headache was getting worse. He shushed her to be quiet, but then Aconisa spotted a water cooler and ran towards it and proceeded to gulp water straight from the tap. As they waited for Aconisa to finish drinking, Arnie looked down and noticed a large purple bruise on his arm.
Suddenly, he heard voices on the other side of the double doors. He grabbed Aconisa, water spluttering from her mouth and pulled Opie, who had fallen asleep standing against a wall. He opened the nearest door and shoved them both in following them and leaving the door slightly cracked open. He put his finger in front of his lips, gesturing his friends to be quiet. Through the crack he saw two men in disposable, white hooded boiler suits walking down the corridor. They disappeared into a room further down.
With no time to lose, Arnie quickly pulled his friends out of the room and towards the double doors, looking back to make sure the men hadn’t reappeared. Not an easy task with Opie practically asleep on his feet and Aconisa so restless and agitated. The sign above the doors said, ‘Loading Bays 1-10’. As Arnie pushed the doors open, bright sunlight streamed in. Outside there was a row of military trucks lined up in the loading bays, but there didn’t seem to be anyone around. They hid between two of the trucks and Arnie leant forward to survey the area. To his dismay the facility seemed to be surrounded by a thirty foot metal fence. There was no way they were going to be able to climb out. Arnie searched for another escape route and his eyes stopped on a large sign, ‘Military Research Laboratory – KEEP OUT’. He couldn’t believe this was a government facility. He had heard many ‘conspiracy theories’ – the term he knew was coined by governments to discredit dissenting views – about illegal research, but still, he was shocked.
An idea began to form. He reached up and opened the driver’s door of the truck next to them and climbed in. Arnie couldn’t believe their luck; the keys were in the ignition. He had driven trucks before, so this shouldn’t be too difficult.
“Aconisa, Opie, get in the truck,” Arnie called quietly.
“I’m not getting in that!” said Aconisa, looking terrified. “What if we crash again? We’re all gonna die!”
Suddenly a loud siren blared through the air, practically deafening them. Opie woke up disorientated with a start, having fallen asleep again. Arnie jumped down, and pushed Opie up into the truck, and turned towards Aconisa. “You have to get in. I think that siren is about us. If they catch us we’ll be stuck here, and I don’t know if we’ll make it alive. We don’t have any time. You have to trust me.”
Aconisa gulped and with trembling hands she pulled herself into the truck.
Arnie turned the key in the ignition and put the truck into drive. In the distance he could see more men in boiler suits running in their direction. He pushed hard on the accelerator and built up speed as he drove towards the fence. With a loud crash, the fence buckled and split as he ploughed through it. Aconisa screamed and began wailing. A tearing pain seared through Arnie’s head as the truck jostled over the rough terrain. He lowered the window and the cool air soothed the pain. In the distance he could see a road and headed towards it. Arnie looked in the rearview mirror and saw a truck leaving the facility towards them. He pressed harder on the accelerator.
As they reached the road, Arnie hesitated, should he go left or right? One wrong turn could mean the difference between life and death, reaching a town and safety, or being caught.