T he voice from within the surgery said: "Do come in – and welcome." On a gloomy winter morning, I kept my much-needed appointment with Dr Indulgence in the centre of a tiny village called Rode, which is between Frome and Bath.

Locals peered from curtains as the pretty, petite blonde in her white coat greeted me, already armed with her emergency box – with one look, she decided I was in desperate need of treatment. The symptoms were clearly written on the box – overworked, stressed out, grumpy boss and rubbish pay rise. Honestly, that's what it said, and it was my boss who had ordered me to go there.

But this was no ordinary physician. For the "doctor" was local entrepreneur Flo Broughton, who firmly believes in the healing powers of chocolate, and helps her father Kerr produce a huge range of novelty sweets, which are sent all over Europe to make people feel good. And the latest Belgian chocolates to leave the pair's factory, called Chocolate on Chocolate, are her prescription to help you deal with life's little ups and downs.

Pills, plasters, thermometers, emergency bars, a full first aid kit and an emergency pack are all filled with mouth-watering ingredients, which Flo assured me would make me a different man in seconds.

Indeed, if Flo is to be believed, then I should be one of the healthiest people on the planet. For not only have I been taking her "tonic medicine" for the best part of 50 years, but in the past decade I have increased the dosage to the absolute maximum – and it seems to have worked. From being a seven-stone weakling at school, towering over my fellow pupils at 6ft 3in, and ashamed to reveal my skinny abdomen during sports days, I have grown into an 18-stone giant.

Actually, I am slightly shorter than I was 10 years ago, but my waistline has more than made up for the shrinkage.

And I am beginning to think that Flo's remedies for reducing stress, making me less moody and sleep soundly at night just might have something to do with my growing out of two dress suits, four pairs of trousers, two jackets and a washing line full of shirts. She is what is termed a chocolatier, which in layman's terms is someone who crafts all sorts of things from chocolate. But not just any old chocolate – the finest available from Belgium, which is then delivered to her home village, where she and Kerr work their own special kind of magic, and transform it into everything from replica homes to tasty, sweet animals and edible greeting cards.

And it began five years ago when she turned a sweet tooth, which she had developed during her days as a pupil at the local All Hallows and Kingsdown schools, into a business.

Kerr had already made a name for himself as an inventor – his hedgehog-shaped brushes, for removing dirt from boots and shoes, had made him a household name.

He was also a dab hand at making moulds, and the pair put their heads together and came up with the idea of making chocolate novelties.

"We bought about 10kg of Belgian chocolate buttons, melted them in a saucepan on the kitchen stove, poured them into dad's moulds, added messages, and we were away," said Flo. "Dad took them to a trade fair, set up a stall and soon after we had an order from Harrods.

"As demand grew, we took on about seven local people as staff, and five years later we are waiting to move into a new factory – a converted barn – which is four times bigger than where we work now, and there are 10 workers on the payroll."

In fact, the factory looks more like a busy kitchen and the mainly female workers look as though they have taken a dose of their own medicine as they cheerfully make and pack chocolates to be sent all over Europe.

"They can – and do – help themselves to as much chocolate as they like," said Flo.

"Everything here is done by hand, from melting the chocolate, to placing it in moulds, decorating it and packaging. We get orders by mail order and are kept busy six days a week.

"We are starting our Easter and Valentines range now. Making chocolate with messages is still our biggest range, but we still make things to order." Those things include chocolate models of private houses for people such as Sting and Nicholas Cage. The couple even produced a replica of Prince Charles's Highgrove House, and he stocks the Chocolate on Chocolate range in his shop in Tetbury.

Flo is so convinced that a chocolate bar is good for your health that she actually called her production line the Chocolate Pharmacy – until, that is, the British Pharmaceutical Society found out, and threatened to sue her.

"They were really serious about it," said Flo. "We had to change the name temporarily to the Chocolate Hospital, until we came up with Dr Indulgence.

"We checked that there was no one actually called Dr Indulgence, and it is now our protected brand name." The box of pills come sealed in plastic bubbles, just like the real thing, and the idea is to take one a day when you feel the outset of the blues.

For broken hearts there is a seven-day course of dark chocolate tablets, while emergency bars come in mini and maxi versions.

The thermometers and plasters serve no other purpose than tasting delicious, but if you have £20 to spare, the full chocolate first aid kit contains a selection of dark and white chocolate, and Yummy bars, which Flo claims can cure everything from the aftermath of a meeting with a horrible boss at work to a broken heart.

"Every one of our chocolate designs is fashioned out of plaster by hand. Its neither a quick nor easy process, but we pride ourselves on offering beautiful and original chocolates for our consumers," said Kerr.

"We still have some of our very first designs on offer, but we recognise that people want to give gifts that are a little bit different, so while we spend a lot of time ensuring that our range looks fantastic when it arrives on your doorstep, we also are constantly looking at ways to make you, and us, stand out from the crowd," explained Flo.

My own treatment consisted of dark chocolate washed down with a cup of tea. I proudly explained that I was already looking after myself by munching my way through a weekly diet of several bars of Dairy Milk, scrunching the occasional Crunchie, treating myself to really dark bars of high cocoa content chocolate, indulging in the odd Mars bar or three, always finishing the evening with a mug of hot chocolate and really enjoying white chocolate buttons with a glass of Cognac.

After a 45-minute consultation, I left Flo's surgery feeling pretty pleased with myself. The postman winked at me as Flo and her girls waved me goodbye.

The sun came out, and the birds were singing. My boss is a nice bloke really, I don't get overworked or feel stressed out, winter won't last long and that pay rise? Well, who knows?

More details on the Rode company, near Bath, are available at www.chocolateonchocolate.co.uk.