A Powerful Story About Hydrogen Water Tablets – H2 Aqua Plex

Hi, I just thought you would like to hear about one man’s experience with your effervescent H2 hydrogen water supplements. You didn’t ask for it but what the heck, I have a lot of time on my hands and maybe someone out there will benefit from my experience, so here goes.

I think the best place to start is by talking about how prior to being introduced to hydrogen antioxidant pills I was a mess. 1. I am a late middle-aged man who works 56 hour straight shifts as a probation officer at a major California State Detention center surrounded by convicts who aren’t exactly thrilled about their current station in life. I like my job and I’m thankful for it, but it is no pick nick. There is a lot of anger there and I have to be hypervigilant at all times. 2. I also suffer from sleep apnea so I am unable to get a good night’s sleep and always feel tired and drained which makes hypervigilance a challenge. 3. I am a writer, (and yes, like everyone in Hollywood, I am working on the next big movie script) so I am given to slight loquaciousness.

Ok, so slight loquaciousness is an oxymoron but that’s not the problem. The problem is, was, that prior to H2 molecular hydrogen water supplementation I was not writing, or walking, or jogging, or going to the batting cage because those activities require energy and I didn’t have any. My leisure life had become a study in sedentary. My mind too. My writing had devolved to signing credit card receipts at junk food joints. I attributed my lack of creative production to my new super-high-def-curved Samsung screen with 7 point surround sound and the great NFL/NBA coverage it transmitted into my bedroom. The truth of the matter was that an insidious veil of laziness had drifted over me and I had obviously traded my keyboard in for a remote control and the informed passion of a pantheon of impeccably coiffed sports annalists jumping out of my extravagantly financed home entertainment system.

My life was about watching and waiting and yawning through a 56 hour shift, then commuting a hundred miles home to 5 uninterrupted days of TV and pork rinds. I’m especially attracted to foods dripping with high-fructose corn syrup and salt. To that end my cooking skills include soaking everything in Holy Smoke Sticky Wings Glaze sauce followed by a desert of something like Ben and Jerry’s Chubby Hubby. Come to think of it Chubby Hubby is a rather ironic choice given that I am; single, unmarried, and prospectless in the husband department. No, I am not gay (at least not today) I would be the husband. That is, if I could find a lady who could see the beauty, and the wit, behind these baggy eyes. Girls used to tell me I had pretty eyes. The last person to tell me I had pretty eyes was from, I think, the LGBT community. I say I think because I am not sure if he was a she or she was a he. Regardless, the compliments are so few and far between these days, I was genuinely flattered.

After a prolonged period of denial, a curious circumstance at the detention center caused me to open my once-pretty eyes to a solution—but more about that in a bit. Yes, I had absolutely become an indolent old man whose bygone ambition was clearly circling the drain. Yes, yes, yes, I tried lots of different supplements, with mixed success. Prescriptions too. My Doctors doled out paper for the entire spectrum of symptoms typical of people like me. He put me on high blood pressure meds, cholesterol meds, allergy meds and of course impotence meds . . . quite a list. BTW I am 6’1’’ and 275 pounds. I am not much of a drinker; thank God, still, I manage to get my boatload of calories from the most pickled, processed and preserved foods available on the shelves today. Did someone just say Quiznos large tuna melt? I swear I just heard a voice say, “Quiznos 2,000+ calorie tuna melt. No?

I love movies and, even owning an extravagant home theater system, I still go to a lot of them. Movies are one of the few social activities, if you can call them activities, which still gets me out and about. But, sometimes I hear myself eating, my face buried like a Red Wattle hog in a feed trough of buttered popcorn and Raisinettes: grunting and oinking. I never squeal. I draw the line at squealing but I do hear my doctor’s voice squealing the obvious, “Stop eating like a pig and lose weight or you will die! Do you WANT to die?”

I know the people sitting around me in the movie theater wish I would stop disrupting the subtle moments of the story; I’m a writer, remember? I write these scenes. But, my deviated septum makes me a bit of a mouth breather which, when rooting through a big barrel of popcorn, only adds to their audible distraction. Now and then I even find myself gasping for breath and I don’t know whether to chew or breath! Have you ever had people get up and move away from you because of your eating habits? Thank God it’s dark. Thank God for Effervescent hydrogen water tablets.

My Doctors are dead-on, all of them. Dah! I do occasionally cut back on the crap calories, but, without the motivation to move around—like on a treadmill—I never get much traction—yes, that was a pun. Anyway, I thought this was just my lot in life: hit 60, became a frumpy old man, and then die—alone, in a one bedroom apartment with two sad, hungry cats.

For those of you not totally turned off by my sad-sack story here is where it gets interesting. A couple of months ago a workmate in the detention center cafeteria was sitting in front of a 20 ounce glass bottle—rapt. I could see that something was fizzing inside the bottle and that it was carefully capped. My first thought was that he (let’s call him Harry) was making a bomb so I asked him if that was what he was doing. Harry just laughed and explained that he was making H2 hydrogen water. Okay, high-school chemistry, hydrogen is a highly explosive gas when heated to 1000 degrees. Wasn’t the Hindenburg filled with hydrogen? Not totally convinced that Harry was not some crazy “radicalized” martyr, I stepped back. Sensing my alarm, Harry went on to say that hydrogen was the lightest element in the periodical chart and when consumed was extremely healthy because the hydrogen water was going to pass into every cell in his body, find and gobble up every free radical oxygen molecule inside the cell and the mitochondria and trigger good clean real energy. Trigger energy? I grabbed a chair and sat with Harry for 20 minutes as the pill dissipated into tiny bubbles that got progressively smaller to the point of invisibility.

When the hydrogen was fully fused into the water, Harry screwed off the top and started to sip it. Then he offered me a taste. Now, normally I would decline such an offer. I mean you know what they say about prison guards, they are crazier than the inmates! What in the hell was I going to put in my body? Hydrogen? Seriously? This could easily be some exotic new suicide bomb designed to get past the prison’s metal detectors. Were Harry and I about to explode like the Hindenburg? I could just hear the evening news, two suicide bombers help domestic terrorists escape through hole blasted in prison cafeteria wall. Oi vey!

A voice in the back of my head said it was okay, that this hydrogen thing seemed so crazy that it just might be a good thing. I took a tentative sip. It tasted oddly fresh. I didn’t die. I did fart though. Harry said he was using distilled water but that any water, even lowly tap water, was okay. When our break was over Harry did me a solid and handed over a few of his hydrogen tablets reminding me to be sure to release them only in a tightly capped glass bottle because the hydrogen could escape through a plastic container and not find its way into my toxic cells.

At the end of my 56 hour shift I went home and did as Harry suggested, following his instructions to the letter. Alas, I didn’t notice much difference other than an unusual desire to hit the bathroom more than normal which seemed to solve my constipation issue, but not much else. I did feel a little more mental energy but my 275 lb. frame was not as, how shall I say, buoyant as the Hindenburg or the bubbles in the bottle? A week later Harry asked me if I felt any better. I said no, other than the gut cleansing thing, but, in all fairness, I had only used it once. He frowned and said that if I was going to start taking charge of my health I had to drink it every day for a while, that it was about PP, patience and perseverance. Then he looked me up and down and said that judging from my girth even hydrogen had its work cut out for it. He then launched into a monologue about how hydrogen water had the ability to enter into every crusty old toxic cell wall and root around for cancer causing junk like a Board of Health officer in a hazardous house inhabited by hoarders. And that in the processes of housecleaning, scouring for toxic debilitating oxidation, the H2 was going hook up with single oxygen molecules and create clean H2O water inside my cells. Again, it was going to take a while—PPP: patience, persistence and perseverance.

At the conclusion of my 56 hour shift, I went home and started taking hydrogen water, daily. Slowly, I notice what Harry was talking about. My energy level started to rise and I didn’t feel so sleepy. I doubled the dose: 16 ounces in the morning and 16 at the other end of the day. I resumed making repeated trips to the toilet. Not in a bad way. Everything was fine, no diarrhea or anything like that, just more. I went on the website and read that the hydrogen was starting a war, clearing out the bad bacteria, candida, and parasites and stimulating the billions of neurotransmitter receptor sites lining the deep gut and that everything down there was functioning as it hadn’t in decades. Then I called your product info line and spoke with someone, I forget who, smart guy though, who explained how hydrogen, in gas form, is “huffed” by the astronauts to help fight cosmic radiation oxidation and cellular dehydration while living in the artificial atmosphere of a space orbiter. BTW, I once dropped a hydrogen pill in a flat beer and, whoa! It came back to life like crazy, foaming up like some Hollywood Dr. Jeckel/Mr. Hyde lab scene—very cool. I felt like a mad genius!

I ran out of pills and eventually regressed back to being tired and sleepy so I asked Harry for more. He said, “No way, these pills are too expensive, go get your own!” So I did. Low and behold, after a week of regular use, my energy has lifted again and I can say I feel a lot better. The general consensus among my friends and workmates is that I seem more alive and awake. I think I look better but that may just be because I feel better. I am smiling more. Who was it that said a smile is like a facelift? Smart man or woman. That’s all very nice but on a more practical level the cerebral switch in my brain is definitely back on and I am able to do my job better than ever without feeling like I am even working and about to nod off. I am sure my boss has noticed too, or at least I hope he has.

Best of all, as you can see, I am back writing again. Not only that, I am back in the batting cage, soft-slow ball pitch, but fast hard ball soon. Whatever, at the end of the day, I feel better, more alive, and I am up and moving around and getting things done instead of just lying in bed and watching TV round the clock. I even hired cleaning lady once a week and I’ve been taking my clothes to the cleaners to be cleaned and pressed. I can say this hydrogen water stuff has been of huge assist in taking back control of my life. Thanks!

And thanks for reading this far. Like the errant oxidation, it feels good to finally get it out.

Bottoms up!
Los Angeles, CA