Fountain of Youth Prescription
FOUNTAIN OF YOUTH PRESCRIPTION – January 6, 2025 – Baltimore, Maryland, USA
Marian Gold hated visiting doctors. He was mostly afraid they would tell him he had something permanently wrong with his body. He avoided checkups until he turned thirty-six and began feeling more and more sluggish. He decided to find out if it was a mental or physical problem. A friend recommended Dr. Sinclair. Marian made an appointment.
When he arrived at Dr. Sinclair’s office, Marian was struck by the waiting room. It did not look like a drab place for sick people. The stylish furniture and fast-paced mood-music made him feel like he was waiting to test drive a speedboat. One of the room’s walls held a trophy case containing Dr. Sinclair’s medical school diploma and a collection of award plaques. Marian took a close look at the case before being shown to an examination room and noted that, according to his diploma, Dr. Sinclair had been a doctor since the mid-1990s.
A fresh-faced nurse measured Marian’s height, weight, and blood pressure before asking a hundred questions about diet, medicine use, sleep habits, and aches and pains. She left Marian sitting on an exam table staring at himself in a full-length mirror. He cringed at his paunchy stomach, the wrinkles settling in on his face, and the newly discovered wisps of gray in his hair. Not so long ago, he had nonstop energy and was up for anything. He was strong and lean and could stay up all night. Now he was more interested in a good nap than a good time.
As Marian gloomily avoided his own reflection, a dark-haired man wearing a white coat walked in. He moved confidently and as gracefully as a ballroom dancer. Marian glanced up and concluded the man was another of Dr. Sinclair’s young assistants.
“You must be Marian,” the man said in a cordial voice.
“Yes. Who are you?”
“I’m Dr. Sinclair.”
“Are there two of you?” Marian asked in surprise.
“No. Just one.”
“But I saw your diploma. You graduated in the 90s. You’re supposed to be more than 20 years older than me.”
Dr. Sinclair chuckled. “I do me best to stay healthy.”
Marian stared intently at the doctor’s face trying to spot a wrinkle. “How do you do it? Seriously, what are you taking?”
Dr. Sinclair laughed off the question. “We’re here to talk about you, not me.” He used a stethoscope to listen to Marian’s heartbeat and breathing and then quickly read through the nurse’s notes. “According to this, you’re feeling a loss of energy.”
“Right. Harder to get up in the morning. You think it could be something with my thyroid gland?”
“Maybe. We can run some blood tests. My initial diagnosis, however, would be there’s nothing unusually wrong. You’re probably feeling normal wear and tear. Normal aging. Most people experience it.”
Marian sighed. “Well, that’s depressing. What can I do? Or maybe I should ask, what do you do? You look like you could run a marathon and then dance the rest of the night.”
Dr. Sinclair grinned. “I’ve figured out some things. But they aren’t for everyone.”
Marian perked up. “Oh really? What kind of things?”
“Like I said, they aren’t for everyone.”
“Anything illegal?”
“No, nothing like that.”
“Expensive?”
“Let’s just say most people aren’t willing to pay the price and follow through.”
Marian caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. “I tell you, Doctor, I’d do anything to feel young again. To see myself as I used to be, just tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”
Dr. Sinclair took a step back so he could get a more complete view of Marian. He raised his hand to his chin like he was contemplating the purchase of a new car. He finally said, “It’s a major overhaul. It can’t be done halfway.”
“I’m fully committed,” Marian assured him. “Whatever it takes. Treatments. Procedures. Medicine. I’ve got good insurance and money to spend.”
“It won’t come down to money.”
“I swear I’ll do anything you ask for as long as it takes.”
“Three months. I can transform you in three months.”
Marian’s expression brightened. “Sounds great! I’m ready to start right now.”
“Tomorrow. Come back to the office tomorrow and I’ll have a package for you. Follow the instructions inside exactly. And we’ll schedule another visit three months out.”
“No follow up visits in between? I thought you’d want to see me once a week or something.”
“No, I’ll see you after the three-month trial period.” Dr. Sinclair reached out and shook Marian’s hand like he was departing for a long journey. “Good luck and I’ll see you soon.”
Marian wandered back into the waiting room in an excited daze. He walked straight to the trophy case and re-examined Dr. Sinclair’s diploma. Then he asked the twenty-something-year-old receptionist if Dr. Sinclair was as old as the diploma indicated.
“As far as I know,” she answered with a grin.
Marian left wondering if she, too, was much older than she looked.
He returned the next day. The receptionist recognized him and handed him a rigid box held closed with a metal latch. The box was the size of a large book and felt light when Marian picked it up.
“Do I need to pay for it?”
“Dr. Sinclair said we can worry about that in three months. Can I set an appointment for a return visit?”
Once a time was reserved and saved in Marian’s phone’s calendar, he hurried from the office eager to open the box. He made it all the way to his car before pressing the latch. He expected to find a bottle of elixir from the fountain of youth with a label attached that read, “Drink me.” Instead, he found a letter and eleven sealed envelopes. The letter was sparse and contained the following words: “Open the numbered envelopes in succession every week. Follow the instructions exactly until your three-month appointment. Do not skip ahead or miss a week.”
Marian checked the box for any bottles or pills he might have overlooked. After some initial disappointment, he tore open the first week’s envelope and read the instructions. “To strengthen your heart and clear your arteries, take the recommended dose of the following each day: vitamin D, magnesium, L-arginine, and fish oil. Also eat two tablespoons of ground flaxseed each day.”
Marian turned the letter over like he must be missing something. He was tempted to laugh off the box and instructions but he remembered how impressive Dr. Sinclair looked. Marian shrugged his shoulders and drove to the nearest supermarket where he bought everything on the list. For the next week, he swallowed supplement pills and flax every morning.
“Not quite as easy as drinking some magic potion, but pretty close,” Marian said to himself. “I can do this for three months with no problem.”
After he assumed the remaining envelopes would have similar supplement prescriptions, the second week’s envelope shocked him like a wave of icy water: “Climb 60 flights of stairs as fast as possible each day. Break into three sets of 20. Vertical climbing will reset cellular function.”
“What? I didn’t sign up for an exercise program!” Marian shouted. After raging for half an hour, he remembered his promise to Dr. Sinclair and more calmly contemplated the logistics of stair climbing. He had no regular exercise routines, but he told himself he could conquer any physical challenge he took seriously. One thing he had going for him was that he lived in a seven-story apartment building. Ten trips up and down would satisfy the new daily requirement.
Marian attacked his first climb at a jogging pace. He was walking and gasping for breath by the third floor. By the time he reached the seventh floor, he had to lie down to keep his heart from leaping from his chest. He eventually walked down and up again but decided that was his limit and he would have to work up to the full routine.
The next day he walked more apartment stairs in the morning and used the stairs in a parking garage near his office during his lunch break. He was a sweaty, huffing and puffing mess after ten minutes, but he stuck with it. By the end of the week, he was enduring all 60 flights and even jogging some of them.
Marian feared opening the Week 3 envelope. He put if off until the end of the day and then discovered it contained instructions to eliminate all alcohol and tobacco consumption. He was not a smoker, and mostly a social drinker who enjoyed beer and wine with friends at weekend parties. He figured abstaining would be much easier than stair climbing. He got his first test on Friday night when celebrating a work milestone with officemates at a nearby restaurant.
“You gotta try their craft beer and tell me what you think,” Marian’s supervisor said to him.
“Ah, no thanks. I’m not drinking tonight,” Marian replied reluctantly.
“Why not? It’s just a beer.”
“I know. I’m trying out this new diet kind of thing.”
“How long you doing that?”
“I’m not sure.”
“C’mon, one beer’s not gonna make a difference.”
Marian puckered his face and said, “Nah, I better not.”
“Suit yourself. The rest of us will enjoy life for you.”
Marian’s fourth envelope contained another physical challenge. Every day he was supposed to complete 250 crunches, 75 pushups, 20 pullups, and five minute’s worth of planks. They were ideally divided into three sets spread throughout the day. Since he was already jogging most of the prescribed stairs, the idea of adding body-weight exercises to the mix make him feel exhausted. But he swallowed the challenged and pushed and strained as the doctor demanded.
Week 5 told him to dramatically reduce his sodium intake, which was something he had never tracked. He stopped shaking salt onto every plate of food and avoided salty snacks like potato chips. When any of his friends questioned his eating habit changes, he lumped them into the radical fitness routine he was attempting.
“How long’s this going to last?” his friends asked.
“A few months. We’ll see how it goes,” Marian answered hopefully.
He had to admit all his suffering made a noticeable difference. His body felt stronger. He was more energetic in the afternoons. He could climb 20 flights without collapsing.
Weeks six through nine demanded more lifestyle and diet changes. Marian did not mind slathering his skin with the prescribed moisturizing lotion, but he struggled to get the seven-and-a-half hours of required sleep. No more dozing off at night in front of a video screen. Dr. Sinclair’s routine required discipline.
Then the envelopes told him to give up meat, fast for at least 12 hours overnight, and give up sugar and corn syrup. No more of the bacon-topped hamburgers he loved. No more late-night binging and comfort eating. No more ice cream and chocolate covered mint Oreos. Visiting a restaurant meant hunting for anything on the menu he was allowed to eat. His restrictions forced him to consume more vegetables and fruits. He was embarrassed to label himself as a vegetarian or some kind of health food nut. If forced to explain, he claimed he was trying to lose some weight for a summer league flag football team.
And Marian did lose weight as he powered through the strict regime. His clothes felt loose. His senses perked up. He reacted to sights and sounds the way he had as a teenager. Walking felt like a pleasure instead of a chore. But along with the power boost, he felt boxed in, as if he was a soldier at basic training camp. Each day he climbed the same stairs, did the same pushups, ate the same bland food, and went to bed early.
Week 10’s envelope told him to keep his mind active and sharp by completing 30 minutes of Sudoku puzzles per day. Solving puzzles was easy compared to his other sacrifices, like the one found in the final envelope: Give up caffeine. Marian cringed as he read the words. He relied on coffee to get going in the morning or when he needed an extra push. But he was almost to the end of Dr. Sinclair’s program. If he could just drop one more thing, he could tell the doctor he had fully committed and was ready for the next phase of his transformation. He dropped his coffee habit and fought through the withdrawal headaches that followed.
When Marian arrived in Dr. Sinclair’s office for the three-month visit, he glided confidently into an exam room. He had never been so proud of himself. He stood and rotated in a slow circle to show off his results when the doctor walked in.
“I did it. Everything you asked.”
“I can tell,” Dr. Sinclair said after a critical inspection. “You’re obviously leaner. Your face and skin are glowing. You seem to have lost that trace of gray hair. And I’m willing to bet you feel less stressed and anxious.”
“Yep. All those things. To be honest, I didn’t realize the first three months was going to be a diet and exercise program, but I hope I’ve proven myself. I guess I’m purified and ready for the next treatments.”
“Oh really? Tell me what you’re expecting.”
Marian smiled and shrugged. “Well, obviously I trust you as the expert. I figured now I’d go through some kind of cell replacement therapy or take whatever fountain of youth drugs you discovered.”
Dr. Sinclair smiled almost sympathetically in return. “You now know all the discoveries I do. You know my system. Everything in those envelopes.”
“That’s it? I thought I was prepping for, I don’t know, something out of the ordinary.”
“You have my fountain of youth formula. You simply need to keep doing it. You’ll feel better and better. In another three months, you’ll have the equivalent body and mind of a twenty-five-year-old.”
“Just keep doing what I’m doing? You don’t have anything else for me?”
“How about we get together in another three months and review your progress?”
Marian stopped at the reception desk to make another appointment and then left the office in a disillusioned mood. For the next few days, he kept up his prescribed routine but realized he had nothing concrete to look forward to. As much as he feared opening a new envelope, he also relished the challenge and direction they provided. Without any new mysteries to hold his attention, his intensity slipped.
It started with a half-cup of coffee one afternoon, simply to get him through a high-pressure afternoon in his office. He found more reasons for coffee and then excuses to indulge in a sugary treat and a hamburger. “These are the things that make life worth living,” he told himself. Before long, the routine slipped more and more in almost the reverse order demanded by the envelopes. Eventually, he did his body-weight exercises and stair climbing more sporadically than regularly. He did stick with the less demanding tasks like taking his supplements and treating his skin with lotion.
Marian was tempted to skip his six-month visit with Dr. Sinclair, but he showed up sheepishly. The doctor’s immediate, disappointed reaction let Marian know it was obvious he had not stuck to the program.
Unprompted, Marian began a list of excuses. “I got off track and lost motivation. I didn’t think a little treat would make a difference. It’s hard to stay on target every day.”
Dr. Sinclair nodded with a combination of sympathy and condescension. “It was a big change. Most people can’t sustain it. Any amount of exercise and healthy eating are beneficial in the long run, but I’m afraid the anti-aging benefits require an all-or-nothing approach.”
Marian sighed in a tired but wise sort of way. “Maybe I need to learn to age gracefully.”
Dr. Sinclair nodded, smiled graciously, and said, “Living forever isn’t for everyone.”
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