”“Diet?”“Lots of potatoes,” I said.“Hmm. When was your last near-syncopal event? Japan, right?”“Yes.”“And you were eating a lot of...rice then.”“That’s true. Do you think there’s a link?”“I know of no physiological link, and I know correlation doesn’t imply causation, but I would be remiss if I didn’t suspect some link between your hypothalamus, your blood sugar, and your mood swings. That has to be it. I know I’ve talked to you about your carbohydrate intake, but it was always in relation to the. There were three mats spread on the dirt floor, equally spaced around the fire pit. He indicated the mat for me as being the one furthest from the doorway. Once settled, the room was dark except for the coals of the fire spreading a red glow over the room and ourselves. He lit a tightly wound bundle of dried foliage some different kinds. He brought it up to his face and used his hand to move the smoke toward his face. He handed it to me. I nodded, did what he did and tried to hand it to the. More

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