That day, I scored a corner chair. I'd come for a heavy-metal detox to assist my recovery from Lyme disease. I usually had brain fog, but, after an EDTA drip, paragraphs flowed through my head. I worked as a teacher, lived with roommates, and couldn't afford the treatment, so I put it on credit cards and hoped that healing my brain would pay off.
The center's patients varied-Lyme, chronic fatigue, lupus, Alzheimer's, M.S., A.L.S., cancer-but we all followed Dr. M.'s dictates: avoid sugar, grains, gluten, dairy, alcohol, fruit, and overexcitement. Getting infusions stank. Still, we harbored hopes: having your favorite nurse stick you, or scoring Dr. M.'s special genmaicha tea.
Denise brought my I.V. stand. A man I'll call Hector, a middle-aged screenwriter, said, Denise, is Roberta coming today?
Denise shrugged.
She said she'd jam with me, Hector explained. I brought my guitar.
Roberta was sick, Denise told Hector gently. Also, seventysomething. If she came in, Hector should let her get her medicine.
Hector was underweight and allergic to most food. Still, his request was absurd, incredibly presumptuous. Jam with Roberta Flack? "Killing Me Softly," arguably the best singer alive?
I asked for genmaicha tea. Only two packets, Denise said, saved for-she whispered-Roberta.
Esta historia es de la edición July 10 - 17, 2023 (Double Issue) de The New Yorker.
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Esta historia es de la edición July 10 - 17, 2023 (Double Issue) de The New Yorker.
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YULE RULES
“Christmas Eve in Miller’s Point.”
COLLISION COURSE
In Devika Rege’ first novel, India enters a troubling new era.
NEW CHAPTER
Is the twentieth-century novel a genre unto itself?
STUCK ON YOU
Pain and pleasure at a tattoo convention.
HEAVY SNOW HAN KANG
Kyungha-ya. That was the entirety of Inseon’s message: my name.
REPRISE
Reckoning with Donald Trump's return to power.
WHAT'S YOUR PARENTING-FAILURE STYLE?
Whether you’re horrifying your teen with nauseating sex-ed analogies or watching TikToks while your toddler eats a bagel from the subway floor, face it: you’re flailing in the vast chasm of your child’s relentless needs.
COLOR INSTINCT
Jadé Fadojutimi, a British painter, sees the world through a prism.
THE FAMILY PLAN
The pro-life movement’ new playbook.
President for Sale - A survey of today's political ads.
On a mid-October Sunday not long ago sun high, wind cool-I was in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, for a book festival, and I took a stroll. There were few people on the streets-like the population of a lot of capital cities, Harrisburg's swells on weekdays with lawyers and lobbyists and legislative staffers, and dwindles on the weekends. But, on the façades of small businesses and in the doorways of private homes, I could see evidence of political activity. Across from the sparkling Susquehanna River, there was a row of Democratic lawn signs: Malcolm Kenyatta for auditor general, Bob Casey for U.S. Senate, and, most important, in white letters atop a periwinkle not unlike that of the sky, Kamala Harris for President.
