March 24 – “Sulfa-whatsit”

Five a.m. to 8:30 p.m.  Now that's quite a day.    Today was the day that I had an eye doctor appointment in Houston with the same ophthalmologist on the same day and within the same hour as both of my in-laws.  As a result we got up at 5 a.m. and drove to Bay City.  We arrived there right at eight, made a quick pit stop, switched to their car, and took off for Houston.  Chris was the chauffeur, as usual.    On the way there I actually got a lot done on the Palm Sunday worship service.  I still need to get on the computer and type it up, though.  Most of the rest of the way I listened to the conversations going on and, of course, slept.  We joked about which of them would get called back first, since they were both new patients.  My appointment time was right after theirs, so I wasn't considered in that bit of banter.  But guess who was called back first?  Me.  I assumed it was because I was a returning patient.  I couldn't resist a tiny little woohoo on my way past.   The medical assistant or whatever her official title was went through all the usual "read the letters on the wall chart" tests.  She updated my chart.  That meant I had to come up with the names of all the medications I was taking.  I did fine on all except the new rheumatoid arthritis one.  I couldn't come up with it.  She finally typed in something like "takes something for arthritis."  I was reading over her shoulder, and it suddenly hit me.  I remembered that it began with "sulfa."  That seemed weird the first time I heard it because I thought sulfa drugs were all just for antibiotic kinds of stuff.  She typed in "sulfa" and ran a search.  Hundreds of drugs came up, but amazingly, just a few down from the top, I saw it.  Sulfasalazine. (OK.  I confess.  I forgot again while I was typing just now and had to go look at the bottle).  But I felt proud of myself then.  She put the eye drops in and stuck the machine in my eye, and got me all set for the real doctor to come in and do his high dollar inspection.    When he came in, the doc sat down, swung his machine around, looked in each of my eyes in turn, while asking me what I did for a living.  I said I was a pastor in Jamaica Beach in Galveston.  He pushed the machine out of the way and started talking about  fishing.  He goes out to San Luis Pass all the time to fish, so he knew just where Jamaica Beach was – "The Speed Trap," he called it.  He has been through Jamaica Beach.  He even pulled out his cell phone and showed me the pictures he took from his last trip down there.  Caught some nice specs and a few good keeper reds.  After about five minutes or so of fish stories, he said, "Oh, about your eyes.  They haven't changed all that much, and the other cataract hasn't showed up yet.  It will, but it may take ten years.  But I wouldn't get any new glasses if I were you."  With that he shook my hand and left.  OK.  So much for stressing about an eye exam.   Now Chris' mom was fine, too, but she decided to get some new glasses just because she wanted some.  Her Dad, on the other hand, needed cataract surgery.  They set up the first eye for a few weeks off.  There's another trip in Chris' future.   On the way home we took the beach road through Freeport.  It was the first time we have been that way since Ike.  Our only comments were, "It looks so clean now," and "There are no dunes."   We got to the church just as they were getting started with youth group.  It was our youth pastor's first day back since spending ten weeks in Tennessee and CSI school.  He was glad to be home, and the kids seemed happy to have him back.  He said he learned a lot while he was gone, and not all of it related to dead bodies.  He wants to simplify his life again – work, home, church.  I'm praying he is successful.   1 Thessalonians 1:3 says, "We continually remember before our God and Father your work produced by faith, your labor prompted by love, and your endurance inspired by hope in our Lord Jesus Christ."   Father, I want to be remembered like that.  Amen.