The drive up there was fine. At least until we got near the Texans
stadium. That sure sounds weird to
me. It was so easy for so long to just
say “near the Astrodome” and everyone knew right where you meant. Now that iconic landmark is dwarfed by the
much bigger Texans place. I know it has
a corporate name, but I can’t keep up with those. Still too much of the little boy in me, I
guess. Anyway, once we came near the
stadium traffic backed up to a crawl.
Chris remembered then that there was some sort of Nutcracker convention
or market or something of the sort.
Whatever it was, it was certainly popular. They even had to have police directing
traffic. Wish we had taken a different
route. Oh, and did we stop in on our way
home? No.
We arrived at the office with about four
seconds to spare and checked in. Then
began the wait. Oh, they called us back
into a room and issued the requisite hospital gown soon enough. But the doctor didn’t arrive in the room
until just about an hour later. And then
it was one of those junior high docs.
Well, she may have been a little older than that, because she did know
which questions to ask without referring to her notes very often. And as it turned out her exam noted the same things
the real doc’s did. But after she left
it was another long wait before my regular doc came in. He apologized for the delay, of course. And for the presence of the students. But he and I have talked before about the
youngsters. He knows I really don’t
mind. I told him to pick and prod
away. The exam itself always takes
longer when he is with students. He’s
kind of a clown anyway, so when he gets an audience he really goes into
entertainment mode. This one he made
give one of those hospital bedside reports where they talk about “the patient”
in the third person even though he is sitting right there in front of them. She went through all the history stuff with
him as he patiently listened. Then she
told him my joints were sore, swollen and hot.
Hey, now, how many of you have ever heard that line before? Hey, Babe, you really have hot joints. Whatever that meant, it got his attention,
and he did an exam of his own. And he
agreed with her right away, too, so I’m pretty sure it had nothing to do with any
innate appeal to the opposite sex my knuckles might have. And it did result in a major change in the
medications I have to take. I have to
stop the big round orange ones that I had to take six of every day. After a week, then start another one that is
just a tiny little white pill, but apparently has a huge kick to it. It is also supposed to be one of those
majorly expensive ones, because they led with a bottle of samples and an
application to get them directly from the company for free. We’ll see.
They also insisted I take a flu shot, so chalk that one up as well. Oh, and how could I forget the ever present
blood draw? It’s supposed to be easier
to get the results now, though. They
started one of those websites like UTMB’s My Chart, where you can go online and
read it. Guess I’ll go check that out
when I finish here. Ah, well. Doctors.
Gotta love em. Or at least
appreciate them. At least we got to make
a Luby’s stop on the way home.
1 Chronicles 16:8-9 says, “Give thanks to the Lord, call on his name; make
known among the nations what he has done. Sing to him, sing praise to him; tell of all
his wonderful acts.”
Father, thank you for doctors and blood
tests and online results and trips to Luby’s.
Amen.
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