Well,
the big trip to the RA doc has come and gone.
He reviewed all the most recent blood tests and x-rays. He did another physical exam. He pointed out several things to his “young
colleague” (read here “medical resident”).
And finally he sat on the exam table (I was in a chair nearby) and asked
if I had any questions. All I needed to
know practically related to prescriptions, so he quickly answered those issues
and turned to Chris and asked if she had any.
She was more bottom-line oriented, and put him more into the position of
telling us from his perspective what he thought about my case. He took a deep breath, threw in a few
disavowals to protect the innocent and cover all the possibilities that he
could not know about in my previous care, and finally uttered, “If you had RA,
it is no longer active. Come back and
see me in four or five months, sooner if you have problems, and we’ll check
where you are then.” So there you have
it. I keep taking some of the
medications and some of them now become “as you need it” kinds of doses. Sounds like a plan to me. Sounds like over the last month without the
miracle drug or a specific RA doctor that another Doctor was doing His work.
We
had the patter of little (and sometimes not so little) feet around the house
yesterday. Kel and Christina went on a
date, so their children came over to hang out.
We had pizza, of course (that’s a tradition), and they played hide and
seek outside, rode bikes, and then adjourned to the air conditioning when the
mosquitoes started biting Nana. Inside
they played some weird board games that I still don’t completely understand
using tiny little action figures that they have to buy separately (great sales
gimmick). Oh, and you can’t forget the ever-popular
game of baseball in the kitchen. That can
get pretty rowdy, and it’s loud, but at least it makes sense to me. Noa was content to play with her dolls and
her Nana.
Speaking
of Noa, she wins the award for cutest things said for the evening. At one point she was obviously engaging in
some kind of seemingly random activity, so Chris asked what she was playing. She answered matter-of-factly, “Scops Foot.” Of course.
I took a stab at it and guessed hopscotch, so Chris tried again, “What’s
this game called?” Noa thought for just
a few seconds before answering, “Corn.”
OK. My bad. I thought it was hopscotch. Greatest answer ever. Her linguistic coup de gras, though came when
she suddenly jumped down from the table and announced that she had to go
peepee. We encouraged her to take
appropriate action on that front. She ran
a few steps toward the bathroom, then stopped, dead in her tracks. She turned to me with a very serious look on
her face and explained, “My Mommy says when my zagina says I have to go peepee,
I should hurry to the potty.” Well, by
all means … hurry.
2
Corinthians 3:16 says, “But whenever
anyone turns to the Lord, the veil is taken away.”
Father,
thank you for the good news on the RA front.
And thanks for the refreshing looks at life that youngsters never fail
to provide. Amen.
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