New Year!: We Zipped by a Whole Foods Market

There are times when I should trust my instincts.

Remember when I thought Martin was having a yeast flare, but went with the plan of his his doctor, who didn’t think yeast was the issue?

I was right. Yeast was the issue, and by not addressing yeast directly and immediately, I let it get worse. By four days into our Utah trip, Martin’s skin was a mess. That’s his “tell,” for candida. He gets a mild rash on his legs and belly, which spreads to his arms and backside as he scratches and scratches until he’s covered with bloody nicks. It’s awful. December 30, though we rubbed balm from head to toe, Martin could not stop scratching, and I was washing little spots of blood off his sheets and clothes.

I messaged his doctor, attaching photos. She agreed that we needed to take immediate anti-yeast measures and suggested Martin go back on Candex. This time, I supplemented her opinion with my own and decided to kickstart the new treatment with two weeks of Candidase.

. . . Which explains why, New Year’s Eve, after getting up late and skiing and meeting Adrian’s colleague for a drink, I insisted on driving to the Park City Whole Foods Market for Candidase and Candex.

As I wrote this, one week after New Year’s Eve, the situation has improved dramatically. Candidase works best on an empty stomach, so each night after 10:00 pm, I slip into Martin’s room and give him two Candidase capsules, which he swallows without waking. I do the same thing before 6:00 am, and he takes a third dose immediately after school. For the time being, I’ve cut the already sparse grains from his diet, and tried to further limit natural sugars. Last Sunday, just after we returned to New York, I baked semisweet spinach brownies, which are nut-free (appropriate for school snacks) and better than they sound.


Whenever possible, I’ve been substituting those for the Lärabars Martin loves, which are healthy but, because of the dates, high-sugar, at least by my standards. Instead of a (grain-free but still sweet) baked good like banana bread, Martin has been eating vegetable omelets, sometimes with turkey bacon, for breakfast.


Martin still scratching, though much less. His belly looks good. His arms and legs are beginning to heal again. He is comfortable.

Honestly, I am disappointed that Martin has had yet another yeast flare. I had hoped that, by this time, his system would be healed enough to keep candida in check.

But who’s got time for wallowing? I’m in battle.


Supermarket Superwalking

Last week Martin and I stopped by a Whole Foods Market. Our shopping list had only a few items. I expected a short visit.

On the way into the store I asked Martin whether he’d rather ride in the cart or walk. I offer this alternative every time we enter a supermarket, and invariably Martin replies that he prefers to ride. He is not inclined to exert himself for activities that lack excitement or flair.

Except, apparently, for yesterday, when he replied: “I want to walk.”

“You do? You’re sure? You want to walk?” I said. Martin’s wanting to try something new is always cause for celebration, but I was not without trepidation. Martin dawdles. He wanders. He begs to be picked up when I’m trying to get groceries in the cart. He surreptitiously grabs colorful packages off shelves, and I find the packages still clutched in his little fist two aisles later, or after we’ve left the store.

“Yes.” Martin stayed firm. He wanted to walk.

Every day a new adventure.

I pushed the cart to the beverage cooler. Martin strolled beside me, even set his right hand on the cart. I selected kombucha and coconut water. Martin remarked, “That’s kombucha,” as I loaded the bottles.

I pushed the cart to the cheese counter. Martin followed, no more than a few feet behind me. I selected brie and Roquefort. (Adrian eats cheese.) Martin looked over the selections and said, “I want something to eat.”

The request seemed reasonable. We were, after all, surrounded by food. So I headed to the olive bar for a small container of pitted olives, showed them to Martin, and said he could eat them in the café area after we finished shopping. He clapped his hands.

From there we perused the options for a birthday cake, selected crackers for Adrian’s cheeses, and checked the Whole Body section for organic socks. Martin stayed within five feet of me and didn’t try any shenanigans. We even faced an extraordinary test: When I couldn’t find the bakery counter (it wasn’t my usual Whole Foods), I asked an employee, who said, “Follow me,” and headed off. I was worried that I would not be able to follow him while also keeping Martin with me, because pushing the grocery cart meant I couldn’t hold Martin’s hand. Martin, however, was up for the test. He trotted right behind me, even picked up his pace to match mine.

Even if it was only a short visit to the supermarket, Martin walked, and that’s another first. After check-out we sat together in the café area.

I said, “That was really good, Martin, the way you stayed so close to me while we were shopping.”

Martin giggled and popped an olive in his mouth. That was all the response he gave, but I think he got my drift. I think he was with me.

Martin exploring some bouncy-house territory.

Martin taking a climb. That´s the type of big boy he is.