Do not be afraid, my dear. You are in the safest of hands. My hands are guided by the spirits of my ancestors and want only to heal you. They have helped many before you and they are certain they will provide the relief you seek.
Do not turn to Western medicine, my child. It will poison you and rip you open like a vulture rips open a day-old carcass. In the West they do not understand that sometimes the spirits are the only ones who can help you. They will decry all that the spirits can do and anger them so to inflame them worse than ever. Do you want these Western doctors, as they call themselves, to make you worse?
What we will do for you is simple. You will lie on a bed of woven of grasses and leaves in my room, strong and cool and favoured by the spirits. There will be spices and herbs burning and you will feel sleepy. You will feel my hands on your skin and hear my chanting as I pray to the ancestors for their healing love to enter my body. You will feel me touching and exploring until I locate the source of your pain. Then you will feel me pluck it out.
You will feel my fingers moving deep into you, through your skin and flesh and sinew. You will feel me catch at the vile lump and grasp it hard. You may feel a sharp tugging if it resists my will to remove it. You will feel me win and see me remove it from your body. Your wound will close up so tightly there will be no sign of entry. You will see me curse the lump and then burn it. AS you see the smoke disappear into the air, so you will feel your pain similarly disappear.
There will be blood. There will be pain. There will be healing.
Do not turn to Western medicine, my child. It will poison you and rip you open like a vulture rips open a day-old carcass. In the West they do not understand that sometimes the spirits are the only ones who can help you. They will decry all that the spirits can do and anger them so to inflame them worse than ever. Do you want these Western doctors, as they call themselves, to make you worse?
What we will do for you is simple. You will lie on a bed of woven of grasses and leaves in my room, strong and cool and favoured by the spirits. There will be spices and herbs burning and you will feel sleepy. You will feel my hands on your skin and hear my chanting as I pray to the ancestors for their healing love to enter my body. You will feel me touching and exploring until I locate the source of your pain. Then you will feel me pluck it out.
You will feel my fingers moving deep into you, through your skin and flesh and sinew. You will feel me catch at the vile lump and grasp it hard. You may feel a sharp tugging if it resists my will to remove it. You will feel me win and see me remove it from your body. Your wound will close up so tightly there will be no sign of entry. You will see me curse the lump and then burn it. AS you see the smoke disappear into the air, so you will feel your pain similarly disappear.
There will be blood. There will be pain. There will be healing.
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