"Psychic Medium Finds Missing Rubber"

 My job as a Medium is to give you messages from your loved ones who are no longer alive.  This isn't just simply names of your family members that are listed at the local funeral home's website.  I deliver those names all the time as they are spoken to me, but it is the real gut busting down to the last detail of truth in a story or situation that makes this job of delivering messages from those in spirit worth it to me.  When I first started doing readings, I was aware that people coming to see me for the first time, were looking for red flags that would indicate all information delivered came off the Internet, but now I don't even think about it anymore.  I don't think about it because there isn't a remote possibility anyone would have the nerve to ever admit to anyone some of this stuff happened, much less wrote about it and then put it out there for the world to see. It just isn't available to read.  This is an example.

I was calling in my guides and asking for the messages from those in spirit who want to step up for the female client coming to see me.  I wasn't feeling well.  With a runny nose and a sore throat I decided to lay down on my bed.  Laying down with my eyes closed holding a yellow legal pad attached to a clip board along with a pen, wearing my glasses,  I was prepared to take notes while resting.  Drawing symbols that I see with my eyes closed, or writing down words that I hear, I take dictation from the dead.  I am almost sleeping this afternoon when I am taken back to a memory of a time when I had one of those experiences that was so awful, I never wanted to think about it.

 I have a lot of those "never want to relive" experiences of embarrassment and humiliation in my life.  How I got my period at age 12 has to be an all time most embarrassing story ever to have happened to any female child on this planet.  But it happened to me.  Then to make the worse day of my life more horrible, I had the shorts and panties in a sink soaking in water with laundry soap, when my mother decides to give a tour of the house to all of the guests outside, a house tour that of course included the bathroom where the pre-soaking was taking place.  I can recall that as though it was yesterday.  I am certain there are people alive today that remember that incident.  I still want to hide every time I see the woman that whispered to me that day, "You need to go inside because you have gotten your period.  I am now 54 and she is in her 80's.

So today I am almost asleep when one of those memories flash through my head.  I am trying to prepare for a reading when this is what I recalled.  There may or may not have been an intimate moment in my life, where I may or may not have been having sex, when the condom disappeared.  I may or may not have been completely freaked for the obvious reasons that would cause you and your partner to wear a condom to begin with, when I may or may not have realized it really was missing.  It wasn't on him, it wasn't on the bed, it was gone. The circumstances showed it was not actually gone, but it was hiding in what may or may not have been deep inside of me.  I then may or may not have had to reach, locating the latex, and retrieve it.

  Why on earth am I laying here thinking of this now?  Then I got it!  "I am suppose to tell this woman this story, unbelievable!" I thought.  So somewhere on my three pages of notes, was written in small letters "missing rubber".

  The client arrived, and I begin her reading.  Names came through that were the names of her children, and other close relatives.  A wedding was shown to me where there were flower petals all over the floor, a man in military uniform, with the rank of Captain was shown to me.  It was all there being verified by the client with tears pouring from her eyes, knowing that I was hearing from her loved ones when I came across the words "hidden rubber."  I tell her the story.  She says "When I was a teenager and dating, I had a birth control device that I wore to prevent pregnancy." "It was a round circle and one night it broke inside of me during sex." "I had to go home and tell my mother." She said "I could tell my mother anything!" Her mother had died 17 years earlier from breast cancer.

This my skeptic friends, you won't find on Google, but you will find it on Goggle Blog, "The Medium and the Mortician".

Allyson Glynn Schram is a Medium, living in Arnaudville, Louisiana.  She can be reached for readings at area code 985-662-1780.Facebook