And from the west of the two docks, a smaller, west and more private docks booked for the exclusive use of guests staying in Vivamair Villa (3,750 euros per night). I was able to stare. My friend's ordinary guest, and I narrowed my eyes on my private Villadock and tried to identify the female face characteristics and age we saw there. (It is impossible.) People constantly looked at each other and checked if someone was a celebrity. The one that was as wonderful and expensive as Vivamayr knew almost everyone in a good place somewhere in a good place. I heard so many stories about such a place, and eventually I realized that I wanted to be thrown away by Vivemeil. Did you think this is the key to Vivamayr's success? Can Ultrawealthy be convinced of the program's virtue only when the destination is somewhat less than the ideal?
When she recorded a relentless pursuit of sweetness for Vivamayr doctors, her eyes shined to apply sugar to cookies in the seasonal cut -outed grocery store. “I have something in mind,” she said at our first meeting: “Functional” test of “functional intolerance”. I didn't know what it was. It sounded wonderful.
In the afternoon, I climbed her office on the stairs illuminated by the sudden sun. She laid me on the consultation table. I used my thigh muscles to move my knees toward my head, and when I pressed my knees in the opposite direction, I overwhelmed her calm pressure. I moved it easily. With the help of a wooden repression, she began to hit a more teensy powder on my tongue. After each sediment in the bread crumbs, I was instructed to repeat the head operation from the knee. If my tongue encountered a substance, my body said, “I don't like it,” and my muscles would be weaker for up to 20 seconds before recovering. In this way, she has identified my allergies, weaknesses, and defects. I moved my knees without any problems until she put a thin white powder on my tongue. Suddenly, I was barely pushed her. “That's what I actually thought,” she said.
Doctors reported that my muscles did not respond much with some of the yeast bread crumbs. In other words, my craving for sweets was caused by my intestinal fungal infection. She explained that the infected microorganisms lived on sweets and I was constantly feeding them. “We must make it starve,” said the doctor, growing in me. “You know what it means: there are no sweets. There is no yeast.” I also need to take medicine. I was sorry. What I believed was my taste, obviously, an appetite for foreign invaders. “What happens to this?” I asked. The doctor believed that I had this infection “for a very long time”. Perhaps she grew from the antibiotic taken at one point when I was a child. She was “absolutely surprised,” and my body was not destroyed anymore.
I was not ready to give up my sweets just because I lost my control of some alien fungi that hijacked my heart in a relentless pursuit of sugar several decades ago. I was well functioning in the infection, so if I made a voice and tried to eradicate it, was there any risk that my body chemistry would fall off? According to doctors, the only risk was that it had been allowed to have been allowed to be unpoted. “It may interfere with your intestines,” she said, “it's too long.” “It may really hurt your intestines, and your sugar craving never ends.” If I eradicate the infection, I added that my digestion was already good, It may be even better in some form.